


Crimson Rain

by xCrimsonLustx



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Eventual Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-03
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-09-27 23:45:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,281
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10057343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xCrimsonLustx/pseuds/xCrimsonLustx
Summary: Crimson was doing just fine on her own, until she has a run in with the Saviors and Negan himself. Now it isn't just walkers she has to worry about, it's politics, manipulation, and all of the games people like to play. How long will she be able to resist Negan's dark charm? What happens when her past walks in the front door? Negan/OC, Daryl/OC Mature, adult only content! Also posted on ff.net under same title.





	1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of the characters. I created Crimson and plot involving her, I own nothing else.

a/n This is my first time posting to AO3 so I apologize if there are any mistakes. I will try to get all of the current chapters loaded within the next few days!

It had been a long, uneventful day. She hadn’t spotted a single dead head since yesterday. Those were rare days to have now. She continued her trek through the woods she knew so well now, her bow was slung across her back, over her backpack and quiver. The ground was soft from the rain a couple of days ago and left a musty smell in the air. The sun was near setting so it was time to find a place to bed down. There was a small cabin about a mile away, on the other side of the highway. She hated crossing the highway, it was so open, but there was nothing else close enough to get to before dark and she hated sleeping in the trees even more. 

It only took a few minutes to reach the highway. She slowed her pace as she approached the break in the trees, and stopped when she heard the rumble of an idling car engine. Several car engines, and they sounded big. She shook her head at herself, big groups were never a good thing. She crouched to the ground, using a tree and its surrounding foliage to conceal herself while she listened. A group of men were talking, but she wasn’t close enough to make out what they were saying. She was debating waiting them out, or back tracking to find a nice comfy looking tree to call home for the night when she heard the familiar click of a cocking gun behind her. She froze.

“Well now, what do we have here?” a male voice said. He sounded small. Maybe she could take him out and make a run for it. She slowly reached for the knife in her waistband, trying to conceal her movement.

“Nah uh, put those hands up in the air where I can see ‘em or I’ll hafta pull this trigger,” he said.

Fuck. She slowly raised her hands to either side of her head.

“Good, now get up nice an’ slow an’ start walking. Don’t turn ‘round. Got some people who’ll love ta meet ya.” She steadied her breath and rose to her feet, surprising smoothly with her hands still on top of her head. Panicking would do her no good. “Go on, move it.” He took a step closer to her in order to push her forward, but not close enough for her to move on him. He wasn’t a complete idiot, unfortunately. Fuck. She moved her feet in the direction of the group.

She saw them all when she broke through the tree line and her feet hit the pavement. Definitely a large group, 12 of them, all men as far as she could tell. They were varied in height, but all of them were in shape, and held their weapons with ease. There was no questioning that they were soldiers. They had 3 large greyish-green military trucks, the kind typically used to move supplies so they were likely on a supply run. She’d heard those same trucks along the same highway a few times before, over the last few months. She knew there were at least a couple communities spread out over the area, this was probably a trade route. Either way, she’d have to move on, far away from here to avoid running into them again.

“Boss, lookie what I found when I was takin’ a piss!” the one behind her yelled. Everyone turned to look at her, then one man stepped forward through the now quieted crowd. He was tall, probably a good foot taller than her, and well-muscled under the black leather jacket he wore. His dark hair was slicked back and his salt and pepper beard was short and well groomed. He was handsome, maybe somewhere in his late 40s, but sometimes the handsome ones were the worst. He stilled when he saw her, the baseball bat that was casually swinging in his hands stopped. When his dark brown eyes locked with hers, she felt a flutter in her stomach. He exuded power and finesse. A small, charming smile crossed his lips. And here it starts. She wished so hard that she hadn’t just bathed in the creek yesterday.

“You must be the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, maybe even before the fucking apocalypse,” he said as he stepped towards her, his smile never faltered. Beauty was a curse in a post-apocalyptic, dead men walking world and there wasn’t much she could do to hide it. She’d tried everything, covering her dark auburn hair with dirty rags or tucking it under baseball caps. She purposely wore men’s clothes, as baggy as she could without them falling off her 5’3 frame, but they couldn’t hide all of the outline of the dip in her waist and perfect curve of her hips that could never fit into anything smaller than a size 6, even if she were skin and bones, which she almost was now. Her almond shaped, hazel eyes caught the attention of men everywhere she went. Even in her much too thin state, her breasts barely shrank, her ass still filled the pants out nicely, and her skin held a nice glow. She’d had given anything to get that pale, sallow look to her face and skin, but no such luck. 

“Hi, I’m Negan. What’s your name gorgeous?” The corner of his mouth pulled his small smile into a smirk as he tilted his head and he pointed the tip of the bat at her. She saw the barbed wire that was wrapped around it. “And don’t lie to me. I don’t like liars.”

“Crimson,” she said.

“You even sound like an angel. How fucking amazing is that?” It was obviously a rhetorical question, but a few men murmured their approval until the smile left his face and he turned his head towards them and they were suddenly silent again. The smile returned when he faced her. “But come on now darling, Crimson? What kind of a name is that?”

“It’s what they started calling me after it all went down and I was always covered in blood. Or maybe it was my hair.” She shrugged. He grinned so wide she could see his pearly white teeth. Who even had teeth like that anymore? He was clean, all of his men were, and their clothes were in great condition. The trucks were clean, well maintained with smooth sounding engines. They definitely had a community somewhere, and with a lot more people.

“Beauty and bravery? How much luckier could I get? It’s not every day I stumble on to a lovely lady like yourself.” He was laying on the charm like a man used to getting his way. “Now I just need to know where the rest of your people are.”

“I don’t have any. Not for a while anyways. Just me.” His eyes roamed over her, both appreciative and inspecting. She’d just bathed herself, but her clothes were still dirty and heavily worn, her boots almost had holes in them, and she only had enough supplies for one person.

“Really? How the fuck is a little thing like you surviving out here all on her own?”

“I’m resourceful.”

“Must be. What’d you do before all hell broke loose and the dead fuckers started walking around?”

“I was a veterinarian.” His eyes widened at her statement.

“You’re shitting me! You think I’m some kind of idiot? There’s no fucking way I believe that sweetheart. 8 fucking years of college to get that damned degree and you can’t be much older than 25.”

“I am 25. I graduated when I was 20 and was practicing for 2 years before the shit hit the fan.”

“Beauty, brawn, brains, and a fucking doctor. I think I just won the jackpot. Why don’t you hop up in my truck and I’ll take you to your new home. Big, heavy walls, endless supplies, and some really great people to meet.”

She’d been casually glancing around, taking in her surroundings. She even caught a glimpse of the man behind her. He was 6 or 7 inches taller than her, extremely thin with shaggy blonde hair. She could take him when the time came.

“No thank you,” she answered him. His smile fell and he cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Any why the fuck not? You said you don’t have anyone else. No one survives long on their own. And I have a very strict no rape policy if that’s what you’re worried about. Lots of ladies back home.”

“I’ve been just fine on my own. It’s been a pleasure meeting you… gentleman… but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.” She’d barely taken half a step to leave when the automatic weapons and handguns the others had been holding by their sides raised to point directly at her.

“I was hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but we have some rules around here. Everyone in my territory, and this is my territory, either comes back with us and joins the rest of my Saviors, or they work for me. And working for me means I take half your shit. Weapons, food, water, clothes, everything.” He took a few steps closer to her.

“Fine, take my bag and take half.”

“Well doll, I just don’t feel right doing that to you. You already got next to nothing, and if I take half then you’re as good as dead and that would be a waste. You wouldn’t make it more than a day or two without that nice bow of yours. I can’t have that. So you’re going to come back with us.” His smile fell a little, and his voice lost its humorous tone. “Now just get in the truck.” He pointed his thumb back at the lead truck.

Crimson didn’t move. She waited a moment, hoping the blonde idiot behind her would do what she needed. And he did.

“Get movin’!” he said and stepped closer, putting the barrel of his hand gun against the back of her skull. That’s all she needed. He didn’t even have time to look surprised as she whipped around, grabbed the barrel of the gun with her right hand and ripped it out of his as she dodged behind him, wrapped her left arm around his throat and pointed the gun directly at Negan’s face with her right.

“I was hoping this wouldn’t escalate, but I will not be coming with you. Do not follow me, or I’ll put a bullet in his gut and leave him for dead, or a snack depending on how close the dead heads are.”

“This ain’t a good idea doll. I’ll find you. My Saviors are everywhere. I am everywhere. There’s no place you can hide from me. Put that gun down right now and I’ll forget this even happened.”

“Sorry, Negan. That’s not going to happen.” She started to back up, pulling the skinny blonde with her. One man stepped forward to follow and she fired a shot that struck the pavement barely an inch from the tip of his boot. “I meant what I said, don’t follow. I have no issues with taking human lives if I must, so don’t make me.”

Negan’s eyes never left hers as she continued to back away, pulling his man with her. She expected him to be furious, but it was curiosity, with a hint of amusement that was swirling in his brown eyes. She stepped about 25 feet into the tree line, well out of sight of Negan and his men when she cracked the blonde over the back of his head and knocked him out cold. Then it was time to run, run hard, run fast, and don’t stop.

Negan couldn’t believe the balls that chick had. In the years since he’d established the Saviors, he’d never have someone escape from him. His men? Yes. But him? No. And that sweet little thing just managed it in a matter of minutes. He should be pissed, he wanted to be pissed, but all he could do was laugh. She was going to be a hell of a lot of fun once he caught her.

“Find her. Now,” he snapped as he turned back to his men, all signs of amusement had left his face. “And if any of you fucks hurt one fucking hair on that head of hers, Lucille is going to have something to say about it. And find Dwight too.”


	2. Chapter 2

Crimson ran for as long as she could. The sun was well below the horizon now and there wasn’t much light left. If she kept running now, she was very likely to run straight into a dead head who would take a chunk of her throat faster than she could react. She liked her throat exactly the way it was, thank you very much. She spotted a large oak tree that had strong, thick branches about 20 feet up. She grabbed a hold of the lowest branch and pulled herself up, then crawled up a few other branches before she settled on one that felt high enough to be out of the reach of anything dangerous, and the thick leaves sheltered her from view. 

Once she was straddling the branch she called home for the night, she lifted her bow from around her back and hung it from a smaller branch next to her so it was out of her way but could be in hand in a second. She pulled her backpack off and did the same with it. She pulled off the long rope that was looped around the backpack’s handle and used it to secure herself to the branch and tied it off with a quick release knot. Sleep came quickly, and though she slept lightly, it was better than no sleep at all.

She woke with the sunrise, the golden light filtered through the trees. She sat quietly for a few minutes until the initial grogginess of waking had passed. She had never been a morning person before the apocalypse, and she still wasn’t one now. She could smell the morning dew in the air, and listened carefully for the sounds of dead heads or humans. A bird chirped loudly in the distance, and she could see a squirrel forging around on the ground below her. That was a sure sign that no dead heads were nearby. It   
wasn’t likely that Negan and his men hunted her into the night, but she’d met a few groups crazy enough to do it before. The forest was silent other than the few animals, so she quietly pulled the knot from the rope and tied it back up to her backpack before slipping both arms through the pack’s straps. Her bow had just settled on her back when she heard it. 

Snap. A twig on the ground, maybe 30 feet away. She pulled her legs, which had been dangling from the branch, up so she wouldn’t be easily seen. The sound of rustling leaves grew louder. It wasn’t a dead head. Two legs, even pace. It was a human and he was getting closer by the second. She pulled her knife from its sheath in her waistband and waited. She steadied her breathing to calm the pounding heart in her chest. When she saw a mop of long brown hair beneath her, she dropped her bag and bow as she leapt, landing straight on the man’s back as she brought her knife across his throat in one smooth swipe. She rolled once and was already on her feet when she saw the barrel of the gun.

“Crimson. I get it now.” She looked past the gun’s barrel and her eyes met with Negan’s, he was grinning from ear to ear. Apparently he and his men spent the night looking for her. She looked down at herself and saw the fresh blood dripping from her right hand that held her knife. There was blood spattered across her shirt, and likely her face and neck too. 

“Don’t move, or Lucille here is going to come say hi,” he said as he lowered the gun with his right hand, but used his left to point the barbwire wrapped baseball bat at her. She dropped her knife and raised her hands chest high. “I don’t think I introduced you two before! This is Lucille,” he held the bat up so she could see it. “And she is awesome. Now tell me, where did a genius doctor learn that shit from?”

“My boyfriend. He was the outdoors, rough and tumble type.”

“He the one that taught you how to use that bow too?”

“Yes.”

“Seeing how you made me walk around these fucking woods all night, and just killed one of my men, normally Lucille would bash your fucking head in. But since I need a doctor back at Sanctuary, and you’re smoking hot, I mean fuck, watching you get all primal and slit Jason’s throat like that got me hard as fuck, I’m going to let this slide. It’s a one-time thing, so don’t even fucking think about pulling some shit like this again.” The bat shook at he spoke, emphasizing his point. “I don’t want to fuck up that pretty little face of yours.” Crimson’s face didn’t react to his words the way most women would. She didn’t react at all. She didn’t even blink.

“That was crude. Do you always speak to women that way? I can’t imagine it gets you very far.” His smile widened.

“Yeah I do doll. And it got me 3 wives back home. You’re gonna meet them when we get there. They’ll help you get cleaned up. As sexy as you look right now, that blood is going to start to stink soon. After you’re cleaned up, you and I are going to have a chat. You have no idea how well I want to get to know you.”

“I know exactly how well you want to get to know me. But don’t get your hopes up. I…,” she was cut off when a hand grabbed her ankle. When she looked down, Jason had already reanimated, his white eyes were sighted on her juicy leg. He was a second away from taking a chuck out of her calf when the bullet tore through his skull.

“Now you really owe me. And I’ll grow on you, I abso-fucking-lutely promise you that sweetcheeks. Now I’ve got to pat you down before we go. Can’t have you trying to put a knife in me.” She narrowed her eyes at him and he saw her clenched jaw twitch. “I’ll be a gentleman. Now turn around.”

She turned away from him, keeping her hands in the air so he could approach. He started at her neck, checking her hair for something hidden. She shuttered as his hands grazed softly down her neck and to her shoulders. It was involuntary, she couldn’t help it. The first year after the turn, she’d spent looking for her boyfriend, if that was even the right term for him. What did you call the person that taught you about yourself, who made you a better person, who taught you to survive? There wasn’t a label for that. After that year, she had no interest in being with any other man. She’d killed quite a few who didn’t understand the word no. 

Negan’s hand were large, calloused, but surprising gentle for a man of his size and character. They ran down her arms from the front, then back up from the back, checking for knives hidden under her sleeves. She had none. He brushed down her back and she shivered again as his hands slide around her waist to her stomach, checking her waistband. He found her empty knife holster and pulled the clip from her waistband.

“I think I’m already growing on you, unless those shivers are just because you’re cold.”

“They’re because I’m repulsed. Now get on with it, I’d rather not stand out in the open woods all day, especially since I’m disarmed.”

“Whatever you say doll. But you are one fine piece of ass, and so am I, so this attraction is natural. No fucking shame necessary.” She could practically feel him grinning behind her. His fingertips brushed over her hips, then one hand ran down each leg. He stopped when he felt another holster from the outside of her boots. She was hoping he’d miss that one. He pulled her pant leg up over her boot and grabbed her pink Ruger subcompact .380 that was tucked inside. “Pink? Really?” Negan laughed. “Where the fuck did you find this at? I can’t even tuck this in my waistband and still be dignified. If I wasn’t a little worried that you’ll put a bullet in my brain the first chance you get, I’d let you hang on it, just so I don’t have to.” He shoved it in the front right pocket of his jeans so it was hidden.

“It was my first gun, had it long before the apocalypse, so be careful with that. I want it back.”

“I’ll take good care of it,” he replied. He kept her in his peripheral vision as he searched the now very dead body. Jason had a radio, 9mm, rifle, and a couple knives that Negan took. He put the smaller items in her bag, and slung the rifle over his back. “Turn around, you’ll be walking in front of me darling, so I can keep an eye on you.” He picked up her backpack and bow, slipping both of them over his shoulder. “If you promise not to run, I’ll put my gun away. I’m a friendly guy, and it doesn’t feel so friendly to be aimed at your head all the time.”

“You have everything I own. My food, water, and weapons. I’m not an idiot. I wouldn’t make it more than a day or two on my own now.” Negan tucked his gun into the back of his pants, then put a hand on her lower back to urge her forward. He moved through the woods almost silently. Barely a rustling of leaves as he stepped. It was no wonder she hadn’t heard his approach.

“Now that’s the spirit! Cooperating already. You’re one smart lady. You and I are going to get along great.” He grabbed the radio that was hanging from his waist. “I’ve got her. Everyone get their asses back to the vans, we’re leaving ASAP.” There were several acknowledgements before the radio when silent as they continued to walk.

Then someone asked “Jason, you copy?”

“Jason’s dead,” Negan answered. “He’s been taken care of.” The radio went silent again. “We’ve got a bit of a walk to get back to the road. Why don’t you tell me all about your sexy little self?”

“What would you like to know?”

“Well, I know you’re a 25 year old veterinarian who knows how to hunt and fight and you’re some kind of fucking genius or shit like that. Where were you from, before all this?”

“Georgia.”

“Lemme guess, you grew up in one of those fancy plantation houses in those nice neighborhoods, your daddy was a doctor and you wanted to be just like him.”

“I lived in a trailer out in the woods. My mother and father were too busy smoking, drinking, and shooting up to pay much attention to me.”

“You’re just full of fucking surprises! I don’t know if I’m actually going to believe you till I see you patching up one of my men. I think you might be full of shit. How’d you manage to end up a doctor instead of a crack whore?”

“As I said before, I’m resourceful. Are you done with all of the questions now? You talk. A lot.”

“Nah, I’m a really fucking friendly guy doll. I told you I want to get to know you better. How long have you been alone out here?”

“About 10 months.”

“You with any groups before then?”

“Yes, a few.”

“What happened to them?”

“The first group I was separated from when a hoard came at us. The second was picked off slowly. The third… it was a group of men who thought I owed them something for a couple weeks of protection and didn’t understand the word ‘no’. They’re all dead now.”

“You can be one mean little bitch, can’t ya?”

“I’m a survivor. I do what I have to, no more, no less.”

“You won’t have to do that shit anymore at Sanctuary. It’s a fucking fortress. All you gotta do patch up my men when they need it, and keep the workers healthy.”

“Fortresses fall.”

“That they do. But not mine, not for a long fucking while at least. I run a tight ship. Daily maintenance, 24/7 perimeter patrols, all that good shit. Everyone has a job, and there are rules that everybody fucking follows or they pay for it.”

They finally hit the break in the tree. Negan’s men were already waiting for them. Most of them were in the trucks, ready to go. A few were keeping watch from the ground.

The idiot blonde approached them when they reached the first truck.

“Dwight, good to see you fucking survived your encounter with the maybe 110 pound girl,” Negan mocked him. “Try not to get kidnapped again next time you stupid shit.”

“Ready to go when you are boss,” Dwight said, his pale cheeks went red with embarrassment.

Negan lead her to the first truck, opened the door, and jumped up before holding his hand out to pull her up. He took his seat in the front passenger side. She looked around the truck, but all of the seats were taken. Negan grinned at her again, and patted his lap.

“I’ll be a perfect gentleman, just like earlier,” he said. When she didn’t move, he looped his arm around her waist and pulled her down on his lap, then slid his hand to rest on her hip. His left hand was playing with the ends of her long hair. “I think they called you Crimson because of this gorgeous fucking hair. None of my wives are red-heads, not normally my thing, but you are so fucking exceptional.” The trucks all started up smoothly, and rumbled down the road towards Sanctuary.

“How long until we get there?” Crimson asked.

“Not long doll, not long at all.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N I wanted to let everyone know that this story is starting around the start of season 6 which to me should be around 3 years from the start of the outbreak. I know the thought is that it’s only around 2 years, but I already said it was about 3 earlier, so I’m going to stick with that. Plus I think Judith is around 2 years old in season 6, so if Lori got pregnant after the outbreak, it would make it around 3 years. When we catch up to season 7, I will be trying to keep the story as in line with the actual plot as possible, but since I already have major plot points and the end in mind, it may end up being at least a little AU. Enjoy the chapter!

Minutes felt like hours as the trucks rumbled down the highway. It was bumpy, and her feet couldn’t reach the ground from Negan’s lap so the only thing that kept her from bouncing off of his lap was the arm he had around her waist. He held her tight against him, her back was flush with his chest. His wide, muscular and extremely masculine chest. His hand hadn’t stopped playing with her hair. He was casually twirling it around his fingers, like it was an afterthought he didn’t realize he was doing. But Crimson knew that he knew exactly what he was doing. He kept brushing his fingertips down her spine, or softly down the back of her bare arm. And she could smell him, Negan smelled like the woods, pine, dirt, a hint of pheromone filled sweat and it reminded her so much of… him… 

After a year of searching for him, she couldn’t even think his name anymore. She had to move on, had to survive and to do that she had to put herself first. No one else mattered, not unless there was something they could give her, something like food, water, temporary safety. Though she rarely relied on anyone else for safety anymore, that’s how you got yourself killed.

Thankfully the ride had been silent since the trucks started moving. They were heading northeast on highway, further than she had ever travelled since the outbreak. 

“Boss, what happened to Jason?” the man driving the truck was the first to speak. 

“Fucking idiot didn’t pay any fucking attention to where he was going and got himself killed,” Negan answered. “He was a worthless sack of shit anyways. I don’t know why you always insisted he come along.”

“He was a decent tracker.”

“Couldn’t tell his foot from his asshole. Bring Sammy next time you want a tracker.”

“Ok Boss.”

“Well now Sweetcheeks, I didn’t introduce everyone, did I? How fucking rude of me.”

“More or less rude than your forcing me to sit on your lap and pawing at me like a dog in heat?” Crimson replied. Negan laughed.

“That little mouth of yours, I love it now, but I’m going to love it even more when it’s wrapped around my cock.”

“Unless you were lying about your ‘very strict no rape policy,’ that’s never going to happen.”

“We’ll see about that.” His left hand finally stopped playing with her hair and pointed to the driver. “That’s Simon, my right hand man.”

She turned her head to look at him. His hair was like a wild brown and gray wiry mop on his head, and matched his 80s porn star mustache. He was thin, like everyone was these days, and he leered at her.

“If Simon doesn’t keep his eyes to himself I’ll dig them out of his skull with the first thing I find.” Negan laughed again. The men in the back gave a nervous chuckle.

“You might be acting like a damn prude right now, but I’d bet all 3 of my wives that you are a fucking firecracker in bed.”

“Only for a real man, the kind that doesn’t have to kidnap his women.”

“I’m saving your life doll, big fucking difference. You’ll figure shit out eventually and then you’ll be thanking me. But, where was I? Oh yeah, back there we have Mike, Dan, and Randy.” She glanced at them, to register faces to each name, then turned back to staring out of the windshield. They were the lead truck, so there was nothing but empty road in front of them. They must have cleared any disabled cars and roadblocks on the way out.

“I wasn’t a damsel in distress and I have no desire to be here so I’d call that…” She stopped midsentence when the stench hit her nostrils. The air conditioning was running, which felt amazing compared to the heat outside and it blew in the all too familiar putrid, sharp stench of rotting flesh. The kind of smell that only came from the dead that were still walking around. “Stop!” Her voice was calm, but firm. Simon hit the brakes at the same time she commanded.

“Yeah, I smell it too,” Negan said as he picked up a pair of binoculars from the open console between the seats. “Fuck. Big group of them up ahead, walking straight for us. Must have heard the trucks when they were crossing the road. Bad fucking timing on our part.” He picked up the radio and she heard the click of the button. His chin was hovering just over her shoulder so he could speak into it. “We got about 30 or 40 dead fuckers up ahead. Pull the trucks up next to us. I want a man with a scoped rifle on top of each truck to get rid of most of them before they reach us, and keep them off our backs. Everyone else gear up from some real fucking fun.”

He opened the door and slid out from underneath her, easily lifting her up and setting her back down on the seat. The other men climbed out of the truck as the other two trucks pulled up on each side of them. 

“Can I have my knife back?” Crimson asked.

“Nah, you’re gonna stay right here doll. I’ll take care of these guys and we’ll be back on our way home before you know it.” He left before she could respond. She watched him walk around to the front of the truck and lean back against it like there wasn’t a herd of flesh eating dead guys walking straight towards him. She could see the tip of his barbed-wire bat as he swung it around, waiting. The stench was getting stronger and she could see them in the distance now, slowly stumbling towards the living. “Don’t let them make to the trucks. If I have to smell this shit all the way home because there’s blood and guts stuck all over them, I’ll bash one of your fucking heads in.”

She heard a chorus of “Yeah Boss!” from the men. The popping of the rifles started and she could see the bodies dropping in the road. They were starting with the ones in the front, which slowed the herd down when they started tripping over the truly dead ones. It was a great strategy. They had the herd down the maybe 15 when they were only a hundred feet out and Negan and his men started towards them, knives (or bat) in hand. It would have gone down perfectly if another 30 or so didn’t start pouring out from either side of the road, right next to the trucks. Negan was on the ground with 8 other men, no match for close combat. The gunfire went crazy. They were panicking, the rifles on the roof were firing faster than they should for accurate shots. 

Lucky for her, the other guys had shut the truck doors when they climbed out. Negan was the only one that left a door open, so Crimson shut it as quietly as possible. All she had to do now was wait for the dead heads to finish them all off, lay low in the truck for a few hours until the dead finished their snacks and moved on, then she would be free to grab her things and continue on her way. She ducked down in her seat enough that she could watch the action, but the dead wouldn’t notice her.

The men were yelling now. The guys topside were doing a decent enough job of keeping the dead heads from fulling enclosing the group, their backside closest to the trucks was still clear, and they were slowly being pushed back towards her from all other sides. The rifle fire was slowing down. “I’m out!!” She heard someone yell from on top of her truck. “Me too!” Another one echoed.

So far only 2 men had disappeared into the crowd of dead heads. They were organized, she’d give them that much, but they were panicking and it showed. Some knives were landing in jaws or necks, not skulls. Guns were firing rapidly, emptying clips too fast and not taking enough dead heads down with them. Just a few more minutes and she’d be a free woman again. She smirked to herself.

All rifle fire had ceased, but she didn’t see those men getting down and joining the fight on the ground. She scoffed at them, cowards. If you joined a group, you protected that group. If you only wanted to look out for yourself, then keep to yourself.  
Negan was the only one still fighting with any reason. He still had his head on straight. He swung his bat so gracefully, each movement fluidly following the last. One or two dropped with each swing. She was fascinated watching him. The way he turned, so light on his feet, bring the bat straight down hard on one and bringing it right up through the next head. He planned, he knew exactly what he was going to do before he moved. She was so enthralled with him, she almost didn’t notice the three dead heads coming up from behind him.

She didn’t think, she acted. The truck door hadn’t even finished swinging open before she jumped out. Her left hand held on to the door frame to steady her landing while her right hand reached under her shirt to grab the small gun Negan had missed on his search. She loved her bra holster for that very reason. The only way anyone found it was if they were feeling her up, and while his words and looks may have been rude, his hands had stayed in appropriate areas. 

One foot hit the ground and she was already running. One was just grabbing the back of Negan’s jacket, rotten teeth wildly snapped for his neck when she took aim and fired. Negan was already spinning around towards her when it dropped and she quickly fired twice more, bullets finding their mark in the backs of the dead head’s skulls. There were 7 dead left, and 5 living on the ground, Negan included. 

Negan’s eye grew wide with surprise when she aimed straight for his head, and almost didn’t move when she said, “Duck.” But he did, and she fired 4 more times, dropping a dead head with each shot. 3 left. Simon’s knife sunk into the temple of one while Negan swung around and took out the last 2 with one move. The men were panting with exhaustion, and they were all covered in dark, coagulated, sticky blood with bits of rancid flesh mixed in. The 3 men on top of the trucks were climbing back to the ground when Negan turned back to her and snatched the gun from the palm of her waiting hand. He turned the S&W .380 Bodyguard over before he spoke.

“This ain’t one of my guns sweetheart, so where the fuck did it come from?” There was a moan from the ground, one of Negan’s fallen men was waking up, hungry white eyes staring up at them. “Simon, take care of them. Should be 4 from my count.” Then he turned back to her, waiting for her answer. Crimson saw Simon slide his knife into the base of the skull, then search through the seas of bodies to find the other 3.

“Not even a thank you for saving your ass? You really are very rude.”

“You get the biggest fucking thank you I can offer, letting you live after you managed to hide a gun from me. Now where was it?” He was angry, there wasn’t a trace of the playful tone she’d been hearing in his voice. 

He raised an eyebrow when she reached up under her shirt, and he could see her fingers moving between her breasts.

“If you needed someone to play with your tits, all you gotta do is ask. Watching you work was hottest thing I’ve seen in a while and I’m fucking pissed so we can have a nice hot, angry fuck in the back of the truck. These shit heads can wait a while.”  
“Fuck off,” she answered as she pulled the bra holster from under her shirt and handed it to him. “I want that back too. It was custom made.”

Negan looked at it with surprise. “What in the fuck? A god damned bra holster? I’ve never seen that shit before! Couldn’t even feel it when I patted you down. No fucking wonder you wanted me to be a gentleman!” He laughed. “That’s fucking funny.” He slipped the holster in his pocket when he turned towards his men. She saw the smile slip from his face and quickly as it appeared. “You know what isn’t fucking funny? You three spineless pieces of shit.” He pointed Lucille at the three men who had been on top of the trucks. One of them was Mike, who’d been riding in the truck with them. “We were out of ammo, and you were just going to let them have at us. Not fucking cool. I’ll show you how not fucking cool when we get home.” He looked over at Simon and the remaining men who had fought on the ground with him. “Tie them up, we’ll hand out punishments when we get back.”

He walked over to the truck and pulled a rag out from the door along with a bottle of water. He unzipped his blood covered jacket and tossed it on the floor. He had a plain black t-shirt on underneath that was somehow clean. He tilted his head back and poured the water over his head, rinsing some of the blood from his face and hair. Crimson had to stop herself from nibbling at her bottom lip as she watched beads of water dripping down neck. He caught her staring as he threw the empty bottled into the truck. 

“You keep telling me to keep my hands to myself, but your eyes sure do say you want to fuck me right now.” She scoffed at him and rolled her eyes. He was wiping his hands and face clean with the rag. She looked around, everyone else was out of sight around the front of the trucks. She could hear the cowards protesting restraints. When she looked back up, Negan was right in front of her. How could a man so large move so quietly? He reached up and brushed a stray lock of hair from her face and leaned in. She could feel the stubble of his beard against her cheek as his lips almost brushed her ear. Her heart was pounding in her chest and she struggled to keep her breath even and calm.

“You know,” he whispered, “if you still want that thank you for saving my ass, I’ll show you exactly how fucking thankful I am in my bed tonight.”


	4. Chapter 4

Crimson couldn’t stop herself from shivering as Negan’s breath caressed her ear. She wanted to snap back at him immediately, but didn’t trust her voice to stay strong. She wasn’t some man crazy, weak willed woman who fell for seduction techniques, even from handsome men. So what was Negan doing to her? She took a deep breath, and then another, before she placed her hand on Negan’s chest and pushed him back.

“No,” she said, her voice far more confident than she felt. “You can put a paper bag over one of your ‘wives’ heads and pretend it’s me, but that’s the closest you’re ever going to get.”

Negan grinned at her, that charming grin that left a sadistic twinkle in his eye. “I really like you.”

She jumped up in the truck to wait before she said, “Of course you do, men always want what they can never have.” Then she pulled the truck door shut on his smiling face. She could see his head as he walked around to the front of the truck to give orders. The voices were muffled through the thick glass and heavy metal of the military vehicle, but she watched as Mike and the other two that had been restrained were hauled up into the truck to her right. The rest of the men climbed into the vehicles on either side. When the driver’s side door opened, Negan pulled himself up in one, quick, graceful movement and started the truck up.

“Where’s everyone else?” Crimson asked.

“Well Doll, just me and you for the rest of the drive. Gives us a chance to get to know each other a little better,” he winked at her before he turned back to the road. Their truck took the lead, and she heard the other two fall in line behind them. “So, what were you planning to do with that little Smith & Wesson stored between those gorgeous tits?”

She let out a frustrated sigh at his continued crudeness before she answered, “It’s a lot easier to disappear into the night with a weapon in hand than it is to find one and then get out.”

“So you weren’t planning to use it on me?”

“Not unless you gave me a reason to.”

“I gotta admit, I was a little worried when you pointed that right at me. No one’s pointed a gun at me and lived.”

“I wasn’t pointing it at you, I was pointing it behind you. But if saving your ass comes along with threats, next time I’ll just let them take a nice, meaty chunk out of your neck.”

“Now, now, no need to be like that. Just watch where you point your weapons, if I let you have them back.”

“If you let me?” she raised a questioning eyebrow at him.

“You gotta earn my trust to get them back sweetheart, prove you deserve them more than someone else. I always have room on my team for a good fighter, but you’re also gonna be our only Doc, so I gotta take good care of you.”

“Give me back my guns and my bow and I’ll take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but that’s not happening yet. So you keep yourself behind our walls at Sanctuary and you’ll be just fine. Between my handsome self, Simon, and my other lieutenants we run a tight ship. No one, dead or alive, gets in or out without me knowing about it.”

“That’s what they all say, until a gate fails or a wall falls and a herd comes walking in.”

“Not gonna happen at Sanctuary. You’ll see when we get there.”

Crimson turned her head to stare out of the passenger window. She watched his speed, and calculated the distance they were driving. It was important to know exactly where you were at all times. Getting lost is how you ran into a group or town you shouldn’t and got yourself into trouble. So far they’d traveled about 40 miles from where they’d picked her up.

“Where were you headed when Dwight found you?” Negan asked.

“I was looking for shelter for the night,” she answered. “I found it’s dangerous to stay in one place for too long when you’re on your own, so I just wandered looking for supplies and shelter.”

“I can’t see you just walking around hoping for the best. That’s a shit plan, and you seem like a planner. Planners always have a plan B.”

“My plan B is sleeping in the trees. Not comfortable, but it’s safe.”

“Fair enough. Don’t want to give out all your survival secrets, don’t trust me yet, I get it. But give it some time, you’ll see I’m not the fucking bad guy you think I am right now. My people love me, you will too.” She glanced over in time to see him winking at her, again. 

“What’s your story?” Crimson asked. “You’re asking me all these questions, but I don’t know much about you. You found a baseball bat with some barbed-wire and some guys willing to follow your lead after the end of the world?”

“There’s not much to tell. I picked up a few people on my way out of town, found Sanctuary, and it’s just been growing since,” he replied. “In this world, people want safety, security, and they want a leader. I’m smart, quick to act, honest as fuck, and just look at this smile,” he flashed his teeth in a big grin, “who wouldn’t want to follow this?” She turned back to the window, signaling the end of the conversation.

Negan was silent for a few minutes, glancing over to observe her in the silence.

“What’s your real name Doc?” he finally asked.

She turned to face him before she answered, “Crimson. Everyone I knew before this is dead. Just like you, I’m not the same person, so no other name matters anymore.”

“It’s that fucking bad?” Negan laughed at her. Crimson couldn’t help but to crack a smile before she shook her head and resumed her mileage count, using unique trees, rocks, and cars pushed off to the side of the road as markers. “Ah ha, I knew I could get a damned smile on that pretty face before the end of the trip!”

Crimson made a mental note when he turned down a well-worn road. The white and yellow paint was long gone, and the road was wide enough that the large, military vehicles had plenty of clearance. They travelled for a few minutes before Negan spoke.  
“We’re home.”

Crimson looked up to the windshield to see a large industrial building. It appeared to have been some sort of factory before the apocalypse, a tall building, maybe 10 stories in the center with some shorter buildings attached around the sides. It was made of concrete, steel, and a lot of glass with a few large smoke stacks. It was surrounded by tall and heavy chain link fencing with a row of razor wire across the top. The trees had opened up to a large parking lot. When she looked closer, she could see a row of dead heads along the fence line.

She was about to make a smart remark about his men failing miserably at their jobs when she realized the dead heads were either chained to the fence, or impaled on some sort of spear, and all were unable to move other than stretching their arms out, hoping to reach a human. There were even heads set on pikes. 

“What the…” she couldn’t help but speak out loud.

“Fucking amazing, isn’t it?” Negan said.

“That… was not the word I was going to use.”

“I started putting them out there when we had some fucking defectors and thieves run out, fuckers thought they could get away with it. I thought they’d make a nice example for everyone, remind them what happens when your dumb-as-shit ass steal from me and my Saviors. Then we realized they actually cut down how many biters wander over this way. These ones cover up our smell or some shit like that.” 

“Well, it definitely makes the place seem so… welcoming.”

Negan grinned, “You’re gonna love it, I promise.” Two large gates swung open as the trucks approached, and shut just as quickly after they rolled through. She could see a couple of women hanging laundry on a line to dry. There were a few kids playing kickball. Men patrolled the fence line with rifles. Everyone was clean, clothes in perfect condition.

Negan pulled the truck up in line with several other military vehicles and shut it off.

“Stick by my side Doll, I’ll take you to get cleaned up,” he said. “But I’ll give you my own personal fucking tour on the way there.”

Crimson nodded, and then opened the door to hop down to the ground. The concrete was clean, well maintained but had a few cracks with some blades grass peeking through. Negan walked around the back of the truck and offered her his right arm as she approached. She looked at it, but made no move to take it.

“Sweetheart, when I offer you my arm, the polite thing to do is take it,” he said. “I fucking hate being disrespected.”

Crimson clenched her jaw but slid her arm through his. He smiled again.

“That’s not so bad, now is it?”

“Can we just get this over with, please?” she questioned. He answered by stepping forward. He was significantly taller than her, with much longer legs, and had to take 2 steps for every 1 of his. The other men were following behind.

“Simon, take a couple men to bring those three to holding, we’ll deal with them later. I’ll escort Crimson to her new quarters. Everyone else is dismissed. Go eat, get some pussy, whatever, you all earned it today.”

A chorus of “Yeah Boss” answered him.

He was silent as they approached the front doors of the building, but she could see him smiling, the smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The kids playing kickball stopped as soon as they saw him, and looked down at the ground. She didn’t realize they were bowing their heads until they reached the women hanging laundry and they actually dropped to their knees, bowing their heads to the ground.

“This is the main entrance,” he said as a man pulled open the door for them, his head also bowing. “There are a few other entrances around the sides and back, but those are always kept locked 24/7 so if there isn’t anyone with a key around, you’re shit out of luck.” The floor was the typical off-white industrial tile you’d expect to find in a factory. It smelled faintly of bleach, and was incredibly clean for the amount of people walking around. The hallways were spacious enough for a few people to walk side by side. Doors lined the hallways. Long florescent bulbs lit up the 1st floor. She would have been in awe of the electricity she hadn’t seen in years if she weren’t so taken by every single person kneeling to Negan as they walked by.

When they reached the end of the hall, an elevator opened and he gently guided her inside, then hit the 10th floor button, the top floor.

“The first floor is all storage. The kitchen is down there, so is the clinic you’ll see tomorrow and a few recovery rooms for when someone is too fucked up to be walking up and down the stairs to their assigned room.” The door slid shut and she felt the old, familiar tug as it started to ascend.

“They can’t use the elevator?”

“No, the elevator is for me, my wives, and my lieutenants. Anyone else caught using it loses a finger,” he said like it was common sense. “The second floor is additional storage, 3rd through 5th floors are general housing, 6th and 7th are for soldier’s with familes, 8th is for single soldiers, 9th is for my lieutenants, and then 10th is my office, bedroom, and wives’ housing. What do you think? Fucking amazing, right?”

“You like honesty, right?” she asked.

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he replied.

“Then I think this place is like a creepy fucking cult that’s one imaginary astrological sign away from drinking the kool-aid.”

Negan laughed so loud she could feel his arm shaking. “That’s some damned honesty!” The elevator dinging, signaling their arrival to the 10th floor, and he pulled her through the doors as the opened. The hallway was straight ahead with a few doors to the right and left. This floor had carpeting, and smelled sweet, like women’s perfume. A decent looking, long haired blonde in a skimpy, bright pink, silk negligee came out of the first door to the right to greet them.

“Negan, baby, so glad you’re home safe!” She greeted him with the biggest smile she could fit on her face before she turned to Crimson. “Who’s this?”

“Sherry, sweetcheeks, this is Crimson. She needs to get cleaned up, and needs a fresh set of clothes. I know you’re the girl to help out.”

“Or course, I’ll take good care of her!” Sherry said.

“Sherry will bring you to my office when you’re ready,” Negan told her as he slipped her arm out of his, and disappeared behind a door to the left. 

“Come on,” Sherry headed towards the end of the hall. “I’ll show you to the wives’ bathroom.” Crimson didn’t follow, so Sherry stopped and asked, “Are you coming? Negan doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Why am I using the wives’ bathroom, and not one for the general public?”

“You know, I didn’t think he liked redheads, but you’re so gorgeous it give you that kinda exotic feel. You’re getting ready to have dinner with him, get the run down on his rules, and then he’s going to give you the offer of a lifetime and ask you to be his newest wife.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

Crimson felt her heart skip a beat, and not in the feel good, excitement kind of way. It was in the, brief moment of terrified panic, kind of way. She stood frozen in place for a second before she took a deep breath and collected her thoughts.

“I’m sorry, but what did you say?” she asked Sherry.

“He’s going to ask you to marry him. He’s gotta really like you, he’s never asked anyone as soon as they come in. Normally he’d let you live the working life for a while to see how much better being a wife is. It’s a great offer, the best you can get now.” Sherry started walking towards the bathroom again, her high heeled shoes clicking on the concrete, and this time Crimson followed. “You don’t have to work for anything, and you get anything you want, food, clothes, cigarettes, TV, whatever. And you get free roam of the entire Sanctuary, except Negan’s office and bedroom.”

“Free roam, walking around in lingerie?” The disgust was evident in Crimson’s voice.

“Oh no!” Sherry laughed. “This is just to welcome him back home. They were gone for a few days. I’m a jeans and cute top kinda girl normally.” Sherry pushed open the bathroom door and both women stepped inside.

“What happens if I decline his offer?” Crimson asked.

“I don’t know, no one ever has. He won’t be happy though, so you’d best just say yes. The shower has whatever you need, and you can get a new razor from the pack by the sink. Negan doesn’t like body hair so grab a couple if you need to. I’ll get you some clothes. Looks like my shirts will fit you, but no way you’ll fit those hips in my jeans so I’ll see what I can find. I’ll be back in a few.” Sherry shut the door behind herself as she left.

Crimson inspected the bathroom. There were no windows, and only the one door. The dim florescent lights gave the tiled floor and walls a drab yellow hue. It looked like it had been a small staff bathroom when the factory was still functional. There was a standup shower in the left corner, with a toilet, sink, and standard mirror above the sink. The full length mirror mounted on the back of the door looked like a recent addition. She saw a few small holes on the floor tile around the toilet, indicating it had once had a stall around it. Even with that gone, the bathroom looked nothing like what you would find in a house.

She stopped when her reflection in the full length mirror caught her eye. She looked like shit, like a feral woman dragged in from the woods. When she thought about it, that’s almost what she was. Her once long and sleek auburn locks were a tangled mess, darkened and matted with blood. There was so much dirt stuck to her skin by dried sweat and blood that she couldn’t even tell what color her skin was. Her clothes weren’t any better. She knew the bathroom must stink horribly with her standing in it. She met her own eyes in the mirror. Had they always looked so hard, so cold?

No, they hadn’t. Her mind flashed back to a time she tried so hard not to think about.

_She was leaning over the sink, putting the final coat of mascara on her already long, dark lashes. Her eyes were bright, and even sparkled like a damned fairy tale when she felt his arms slip around her waist._

_“What you puttin’ all that on for?” his gruff, but quiet voice still made her stomach flutter, even after 2 years._

_She set the mascara down and spun around in his arms so she could face him, her hands coming up to stroke his face._

_“You said we’re going out tonight,” she answered, looking up into his beautiful blue eyes. “I want to look nice.”_

_“You always look nice. Don’t need all that.” He nodded his head towards her makeup bag on the counter._

_“You’re just saying that because you hate it when I get dressed up and other men look at me.”_

_“Don’t make no difference if you dress up, they always look.” He pulled away from her, looking down at his hands as he fidgeted. She stepped up to him, leaving no space between them so he had to look her in the eye._

_“It doesn’t matter if they look or not, because I’m only looking at you.” She reached up and put both hands around the back of his neck, twisting his short brown hair around her finger. “Johnny Depp could walk into the bar and I wouldn’t care.”_

_“You gonna get tired’a me one day,” he said as he dropped his forehead to her shoulder. She smiled into his hair. He never believed he was good enough for her, even after everything they’d been through and everything he’d done for her. She spent so much time showing him what a good man he was, and he still didn’t think he was good enough._

_“I’ve known you my entire life and that hasn’t happened yet, so it’s never going to. I travelled all over the country for school and never once met a better man than you. You’ve got the hottest girl in town on your sexy ass arms, so take me out and show me off. And try not to punch anyone tonight.” He just grunted his usual “mmm” in response, and she laughed._

She shook her head to clear her mind. Nostalgia makes you weak, and she couldn’t afford to be weak right now. She walked back to the door and turned the deadbolt. That would at least buy her a minute if someone came inside. In the shower, she found shampoo, conditioner, face wash, and body wash. She sniffed the body wash, the smell of brown sugar made her stomach growl. It only took a minute for the water to warm up after she turned the hot water knob. She couldn’t help but smile, it had been a couple years since she had hot water to shower in. A small pond under the summer sun or a wash cloth with a pot of water warming over a fire was the closest she’d had since the dead rose up.

She adjusted the cold water to her liking before she stripped down. She looked at the bag of razers by the sink and decided to take one before she stepped under the water and pulled the shower curtain closed. With her eyes closed, she stood under the stream, letting it wash over her face. When she looked down at the water, a murky black and red stream swirling around the drain.

It took three rounds of shampoo before her hair felt clean. She used her fingers to comb the conditioner through her hair before rinsing it, and enjoying the once forgotten feeling of soft, clean hair. She grabbed a wash cloth hanging by a towel just outside of the shower and wetted it before pouring a generous amount of the delicious smelling body wash on it and soaping up. It only took two rounds before she felt truly clean. She ran the razor under her arms to rid herself of that hair, but touched nothing else. No one would be touching her legs, or anywhere else tonight. She rinsed one last time and reluctantly shut off the water. It wouldn’t due to waste hot water and piss off her… unusual host.

There was a soft knock on the door as she wrapped the towel around her chest.

“It’s Sherry,” her voice muffled behind the door. “Sounds like you’re done, I got clean clothes for you. I think it’ll all fit.”

Crimson walked over to the door and when she didn’t hear any signs of anyone other than Sherry, she unlocked the deadbolt and cracked the door open enough to see Sherry and reach her arm out for the clothes.

“Thank you,” Crimson said after she took the clothes, then shut and locked the door again.

“Negan’s office is the first door to the left as you’re coming off the elevator. He’s waiting for you, so just knock when you’re ready. That’s my makeup bag under the sink, feel free to help yourself. And you can just leave your dirty clothes on the floor, someone will come to clean up and wash them for you.” Crimson rolled her eyes. It’s the god damned apocalypse and there were women here still putting on makeup.

She unfolded the clothes and set them on the counter to sort them. There was a pair of barely there black lace underwear, a matching pushup bra, jeans, and a dark gray tank top with a lace overlay. She slid on the underwear and jeans, then tossed the bra to the side. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that she was going to be putting her breast on display for Negan. The lace was only attached to the tank top at the shoulders and since she was lacking a knife, or any sharp object, she used her teeth to rip the threads and tossed the lace on top of the bra before she slipped the tank top over her head.

She looked into the mirror and used her fingers to comb out her hair. The conditioner must have been good since she was able to get the last of the tangles out. She thought about looking for a hair tie to braid it back, but it was harder to get away from someone, or something, that had a hold of an entire braid versus just a chunk of hair so she left it down to dry.

One last look in the mirror, and she sighed to herself. It was time to face her fate. Negan seemed… volatile, egotistical, and chauvinistic. Volatile was easy to deal with, backwoods country rednecks like she grew up with were all volatile. Her own redneck, he had an explosive temper, wore his heart on his sleeve, and acted before he thought. Chauvinistic men think with their dick, another easy to deal with trait when you’re a pretty girl. Egotistical was the hard one. Egotistical men always have a line and it wasn’t one you wanted to cross unless you wanted to see how volatile they could get. So far he’d seemed amused by her natural stubbornness, smart ass remarks, and lack of regard for his authority but at some point she could push too far. She needed to figure out where that line was. Based on what she’d seen of his cult following and amassed power, she’d probably already walked that line. Men like him wanted people to bend and break, anyone who didn’t was a threat to his authority. But she wasn’t the bend and break type.

She unlocked the door and pulled it open. The hallway was empty and eerily quiet. There was no sound coming from the door Sherry said was Negan’s office, so she knocked on the door. A few seconds later, it swung open to reveal the smiling face of the big man himself. He gripped the door with one hand and leaned against it with that cocky grin on his face. He was wearing the same outfit, jeans, red scarf, and black leather jacket unzipped to reveal a tight white t-shirt underneath. His clothes had already been cleaned. His hair was freshly washed and slicked back. His eyes travelled down her body, and his brow furrowed when they reached her chest. So he’d been expecting her to put on the bra. Did he chose the entire outfit?

“Well now, don’t you clean up nice? I thought you were hot before, but god damn! And not a stitch of makeup, just a natural goddess. Come on in, get something to eat before it gets cold.” He stood back and pulled the door open for her. She quickly glanced around the room before she stepped in.

It wasn’t like the other rooms she’d seen. It was more like a luxurious study than an office. The mahogany hardwood floor was covered by a large area rug in the middle of the room, a small dining table with 2 chairs sat on top of the rug. There was a fire crackling in the glass front wood burning stove that vented out of a window. One entire wall was a floor to ceiling bookcase, filled with books. A high backed dark leather chair sat next to the stove and she could see the indentations in the cushion indicting Negan had just been sitting there. There was a book resting on the small end table next to the chair. She saw a closed door behind a large wood desk to her right. Several crystal bottles sat on top of the desk, presumably holding liquor, and there papers stacked neatly to the side.

She could smell the food from just inside the doorway and her mouth was already watering. Negan closed the door behind her and walked over to the table to pull a chair out for her.

“I had something special cooked up for your welcome dinner,” he said. “Have a seat.”

He pushed the chair in after she sat down, and then took his seat across from her. Dinner was served on fine white china, complete with a black linen napkin and matching silverware set. There was a large helping of mashed potatoes, french cut green beans, and a fat, juicy steak. She wrinkled her nose for only a moment, but he caught it.

“Something wrong with the food?” he asked.

“I’m sure the steak is delicious, but I’m a vegetarian,” she replied. He burst out laughing, and she raised a questioning eyebrow to him.

“You’ve got to be shitting me. It’s the apocalypse, most of the few people left alive are starving, and you’re turning down a perfectly cooked, Black Angus steak?”

“Yes. Just because it’s the end of the world, doesn’t mean I have to sacrifice my morals.”

“I watched you slit a man’s throat without blinking an eye.”

“I never liked people much. That’s why I went to vet school, and not med school.” He laughed at her again.

“You managed to survive out there, wandering around the woods with a bow and never had to shoot a deer or a rabbit for dinner?”

“Not once. You’d be surprised how many plants are editable, and eggs aren’t that hard to come by if you know where to look.”

He nodded, impressed with her resourcefulness, and then stabbed her steak with his fork and flopped it on his plate next to his own.

“All the more for me then. Take my potatoes, you need a big meal.” He scrapped his potatoes on to her plate.

“Thank you.” She took a bite of the potatoes and almost moaned at the delicious buttery flavor. They were fresh mashed, not the boxed powered kind she’d come across occasionally. “I know you didn’t invite me for dinner just to stare at me.”

“No, that I didn’t doll. I’ll grab us a bottle of wine and we can talk.”

“No thank you, I don’t drink wine.”

“A sophisticated doctor lady and you don’t like wine?” he asked, truly puzzled.

“I guess you didn’t listen to me in the truck. I grew up with junkie trailer trash parents. I’d never even seen a bottle of wine until I started college when I was 16. But if you have some whiskey, I’ll take that.”

He smiled at her and asked what she’d like it mixed with. She shook her head.

“Nothing, just on the rocks. But without the rocks, since ice makers don’t exist anymore.”

“I can do that,” he said as he stood up, grabbed one the bottles with one hand, two glasses with the other, and brought them over to the table before he poured each of them a glass. She took a sip, it was strong but flavorful. Probably the best whiskey she’d ever had and her face must have said so. “Good shit, right? That’s Macallan single malt scotch whiskey, 30 years old. 800 fucking bucks a bottle before the end of the world.”

“I don’t know if it’s $800 good, but it’s good.” She set her glass down. “So, what did you want to discuss?” She continued to eat, waiting for his response. Strong liquor on an empty stomach was a bad idea, especially when she hadn’t had a drink in a couple of years. It wasn’t smart to drink when dead guys were walking around trying to eat you.

“We have some rules here at Sanctuary you need to be aware of. Lucille, she’s a real stickler for the rules. And everyone’s got a place, so we’re gonna figure out yours.” Crimson nodded, to acknowledge that she was listening. “I think I already told you the no rape rule, so no need to worry about that happening here. I have a point system established here. You want food, water, clothes, a shower, a place to sleep, medical care, a magazine, whatever, you work for it. The bare essentials are pretty cheap, so most everyone can earn them. The good shit, like seasoning on your slop, a can of soda, a cigarette, a clean mattress, those cost more so not everyone gets them. Everyone works, but not everyone’s job is equal, so they earn different amounts of points. No one takes anything without having enough points, or they face some serious consequences.”

“What kind of jobs are available around here?” Crimson asked.

“There are a lot of options, and new comers are matched to the best job for them. We have cooks, janitors, gardeners, seamstresses, maids, one teacher, one nurse, an architect, an engineer, shopkeepers, blacksmiths, prostitutes, and some useless peons that maintain the roamers on the fence. There are two jobs that everyone wants, but only the best receive. My soldiers, and my wives.”

“Your soldiers and wives have it easier, I assume?”

“You catch on quick. My lieutenants and wives get whatever the fuck they want, no points needed. A new shipment comes in, they get first dibs. They have the best rooms, the best clothes, the best food, TVs and DVD players, iPods, and almost all the other luxuries they had in the world before. The rest of my soldiers still earn points, but they earn a shit ton of points in comparison to say, a janitor. Soldiers get most everything they want, just have to work a little harder. More risk, more reward.”

“Sounds like a fair system. Unless you’re a janitor, then it probably sucks.”

“That’s right,” Negan laughed. “And that’s why I’m going to make you an offer of a lifetime doll. I’d like you to marry me. All I ask is for your loyalty to me. Now, normally my wives don’t have to do a god damn thing except keep me happy, but since you’re a doctor I’ll need you to patch people up when it’s needed. You won’t have to deal with the peons and janitor types often. They rarely have enough points for medical care. But since you’ll have to work on occasion, you’ll get first dibs on shipments, ahead of everyone except me. That’s a fucking sweet deal.”

“No, thank you. I’ll stick with the doctor job.”

“Really? Why the hell’s that?” Negan was frowning. He was obviously shocked at her decline.

“Polygamy isn’t really my thing. I’m a one woman, one man kind of girl.”

Negan pursed his lips before he answered, “Alright, I can respect that, but you’re going to have to work real hard for those points.” He put both of his arms on the table and leaned forward. The table was small enough that he was half way over it, giving her that same, charming, smirk. “And when your mouth is watering for some fresh potatoes and you don’t have enough points for them, you’re going to wish you’d said yes.”

Crimson dabbed the corners of her mouth before she set her napkin down on the table and leaned in towards him.

“No. I’ll work, but it won’t be for points. You’ll give me whatever the hell I want.”

Negan cocked an eyebrow at her before he responded, “What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me. I’ll be Sanctuary’s doctor. I’ll also be going on runs at least once a week. I’ll live on the 9th floor with your lieutenants and my own private room. You’re going to give me all of my weapons back. When I want something, I get it, just like your lieutenants and wives. And I won’t be kneeling to you like some fucking cult fanatic.”

“And what in the fuck makes you think I’d agree to that?”

“You’ll want me on runs anyways, because I’m quick, quiet, and smarter than every idiot you have around here worshipping you. You’ve already seen what I can do, so that condition benefits you as much as me.”

“Don’t want to get weak sitting behind these walls?”

“That’s right,” Crimson answered. “Looks like you catch on quick too.” This was it, the time to see how far she could push the beast before he lashed out. “Everything else you’re going to agree to because you need a doctor and I’m a damned good one. I may not have treated people before all this, but I specialized in large animal which means I know a little bit of everything for all type of animals, and humans are still part of the animal kingdom. I’m one hell of a surgeon. One day you’re going to need me to save your life, accidents happen, it’s inevitable in this world.” She leaned in a little more, and locked her eyes with his. There was a glint in his eye, a mixture of desire, intrigue, and anger. “And when the day comes that your life is in my hands, you’re going to want to make sure that I _really_ like you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Crimson focused on her breathing. In, out, in, out. It felt like a century before Negan final moved, that grin never leaving his face.

“You got one giant pair of balls for a chick,” he said, leaning in until his lips were only centimeters from hers. “I like you, and you’re right, I want you to like me too. So you got a deal, on two conditions: you get that little pink gun and a knife when you’re outside Sanctuary walls. Inside, you get nothing. You show me that I can trust you and then you can have them all back inside and outside Sanctuary. And those doctor skills better be as good as you’re claiming, or we’ll have a problem. I don’t like liars, and I don’t give shit for free.”

Crimson leaned back in her chair, distancing herself from Negan so she could stop her pounding heart. She smiled at him, the adrenaline rushing through her veins combined with the little bit of whiskey she’d drank was making her feel almost giddy, and over confident.

“I am that good,” she said with a smile. “What’s the second condition?”

“You have dinner with me, every night, zero exceptions.” She raised a questioning eyebrow. “I want to get to know you. And who wouldn’t want such a god damn gorgeous dinner companion?”

“Fine,” she nodded. Always ask for more than you want when you’re negotiating, and you’ll get exactly what you need in the end. He actually gave more than she’d expected, the man was thinking with his dick. “I can accept those conditions.” She took the last few bites of her potatoes and emptied her plate. “That was delicious, thank you. If you don’t mind, I’d like to see my room now.”

Negan nodded, set his own napkin on the table before he stood up and walked around the table to help her up.

“Thank you,” she nodded to him. “Your manners certainly don’t match that foul mouth of yours.”

“I told you I’m a real fucking gentleman, doll. The room that was prepared for you was up here, with my wives, so you’ll have to set up your place yourself tomorrow. It’ll be fine for sleeping tonight though, if you’re sure that’s where you want to stay. The 9th floor are my best men, but they can be a little rowdier than me and you’re an awfully big temptation.”

“You said you don’t tolerate rape, correct?”

“That’s right.”

“And you have complete control over everyone here at Sanctuary?”

“That I do.”

“Then there shouldn’t be anything for me to worry about,” she smiled at him, almost mockingly.

He nodded his head then held his arm out to her and she took it immediately this time. The walk to the elevator was silent. He was letting her observe her surroundings. There was a man she hadn’t seen before standing next to the elevator, an assault rifle casually resting in his arms. He snapped to attention and dropped to one knee as they approached.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“I keep guards on each floor. The smaller upper levels have one each, and you’ll see a few wandering around the lower levels. They make sure everyone is following the rules, and keep the place from getting overrun if someone dies in their sleep in the middle of the night and no one notices until they’re back up again.”

Negan gently led her in to the elevator and hit the button labeled “9”. When it dinged a moment later, he placed his free hand over hers on his arm. It was a subtle, yet possessive gesture.

The doors opened to reveal a hallway similar to Negan’s 10th floor. It was long, with doors on both sides and a bathroom at the end. He guided her out of the elevator. Another guard was posted next to the elevator here. He dropped to knees the moment he saw Negan. It was ridiculous, the way people seemed to worship him. It left an uneasy feeling in her gut. She was observant and gifted at reading people, but crazy people were harder to predict.

The doors were all shut, but she could hear a TV coming from one. It took a moment for her to remember what the sound was, it seemed like a lifetime ago since the last time she’d seen a functioning TV. There wasn’t much use for one when electricity was rare and noise attracted the dead.

“Simon’s room is the largest,” Negan pointed to the room directly below his office. “Dwight, Bud, Wade, and Paula are here right now, so you’ll meet anyone you haven’t already in the morning. There are a couple of rooms available near the back. Take the one closest to the staircase. All of my lieutenants share the same bathroom at the end of the hall, but I’d rather you take the one flight of stairs up and use the wives.”

“I’m assuming Paula is a woman, so does she use the wives bathroom?”

“No, but she’s proven herself to be one mean, coldhearted bitch and she’s nowhere near as smoking hot as you. I’d rather avoid the appeal one might have accidently walking in on you naked. It’d be awfully hard for them to keep their hands to themselves. I sure as shit couldn’t. And here we are.” Negan opened the very last door to the left. “It’s the biggest available.”

Crimson stepped inside as he flipped the light switch on the wall for her. It was one large room, with a neatly made twin sized bed and short dresser against the left wall and a couch and coffee table in the middle. The right wall was lined with industrial cabinets with a sink and refrigerator. The sealed concrete flooring had chips and stains. It reminded her of an old laboratory, so maybe that’s what this floor had been before.

“I’ll show you around the rest of the place tomorrow. You can see your new clinic, and we’ll head to the shops so you can get whatever you need. Get some rugs, TV, DVD player, some shit for the walls. This place looks fucking depressing right now. Meet me on the first floor, 8am sharp.”

Crimson glanced around the room before she said, “There’s no clock or alarm in here, so I can’t guarantee I’ll be there and ready by 8am. I’m not a morning person.”

Negan thought for a moment before he turned and walked out. Crimson peaked her head out of the door so she could watch him, puzzled. He walked up to one of the doors across the hall and pounded on it for a minute, until it opened. Crimson couldn’t see who was inside.

“Wade, you off tomorrow?” Negan asked him.

“Yeah Boss,” she heard a man answer.

“Good. Give me your alarm clock.”

“My…” the man was obviously confused.

“Did I fucking stutter? Give me your god damn alarm clock. Now.”

Less than a minute later, Crimson saw a hand gripping a small black alarm clock poke out of the door. Negan snatched it and turned back towards her as the door closed. He brushed past her and set the alarm clock down on the dresser next to her new bed. She followed him back inside.

“Should I give that back to him in the morning?”

“No, he can go get another one himself tomorrow. The fridge isn’t plugged in, so I’d get that going now so it’ll be cold for you to fill up tomorrow.” He gently ran his finger under her chin and tilted her face towards his. He leaned down, so close that she could feel his breath on her lips. Her heart was pounding in her chest again, so hard she could barely keep herself from shaking. “I’m gonna take good care of you doll, if you let me. Don’t be late.”

His hand dropped to his side and he made his way towards the door. He stopped in the doorway and turned back to her. “Keep this door locked when you’re home. I’ll get you a key tomorrow.” And then he was gone, pulling the door shut behind himself.

Crimson took a deep breath, then did as he’d said and turned the deadbolt to lock the door. She leaned her back against and door and slid to the floor, pulling her knees up to her chest. Deadheads surrounding a heavily fenced creepy old factory, a very attractive and possibly crazy cult leader, big guys when guns down on their knees worshiping him like some kind of god. How long could she play this teasing game before he became angry at her turning him away? He was used to getting his way, it was obvious that no one said no to Negan. What did she get herself into?

Crimson didn’t sleep well that night. The alarm went off at 7am and she practically jumped out of bed, tangled in the sheets, slapping her hand around on the bed searching for her gun. It only took a moment for yesterday’s memories to come flooding back and she hit the alarm clock to silence it before she fell back onto the bed.

She’d slept deeply, the kind of sleep you can’t get sitting in a tree, or locked in a cabin with the dead walking around outside where they could tear the house down if they realized a meal was waiting inside. She’d even dreamt. Pieces of dreams flashed through her mind. Negan’s breath on her neck, rotting heads on pikes, a barbed wire covered wooden bat obliterating a skull. She sat back up and shook her head until the grogginess was gone.

The two small windows let in some sunlight, but not enough to wash away the dark, depressing feeling the room held. She was still wearing the clothes Sherry had given her the night before. She’d checked the dresser for clothes, hoping to find a shirt to sleep in, but no such luck. Her bladder was telling her it was time to get up, so she ran her fingers through her hair to tame it and made her way over to the door.

Purely out of habit, she stopped to listen before she opened the door. She could hear movement outside, and the murmuring of voices. It was time to make some friends, who better to start with than her new neighbors? She turned the bolt on the door and stepped out into the hall. Simon was there, and another man she didn’t recognize. He was shorter than Simon, with straight brown hair, just long enough to fall in to his brown eyes. At first glance he didn’t seem very intimidating, but movement and body language said differently.

“Well now,” the shorter man said as he cocked his head to the side, smiling at her. It wasn’t the type of smile that gave her a warm, fuzzy, friendly feeling. “What do we have here?” He had a soft, quiet voice. He looked and sounded like he’d been a paper pusher, peon office type before the world went to hell. Or maybe an overworked basic laborer who didn’t have the balls to move up to management. Those guys were often the most dangerous, thinking they had something to prove. Crimson walked over them with a smile. After all, you caught more flies with honey.

“Bud,” Simon said, “Meet Crimson. Crimson, Bud. We picked her up out on the run, brought her back last night. She’s a doctor.”

“A doctor, huh? You look a little young for a doctor,” Bud said.

“I’m a smart girl,” she said as she flashed him a bigger smile. “School didn’t take me very long.”

“That’s a good thing for us then, we’ve been needing a good doctor.” Bud slide his sleeve up, revealing a long cut on his forearm with very sloppy stitching. “Cut myself pretty good on a run the other day, that nurse we got didn’t do a very good job stitching me up.”

Crimson gently took his arm in her hands. She ran her thumb along the outside of the wound. The flesh was puckered and uneven, like some of the stitches were to loose, and others were too tight. She patted his hand before letting it go.

“I’m told I’ll be down in my new clinic later today,” she told him. “Come see me, I’ll take those out and get you proper stitches so it’ll heal better. That is, if you don’t mind the pain. Can’t waste painkillers or numbing agents on a non-life threating wound.”

Bud grinned at her. “I don’t mind at all.”

“Simon, you have anything that needs to be looked at?”

“No ma’am,” Simon replied, his eyes narrowed slightly at her, like he was trying to read her. He didn’t smile at her and stood stiff as a board, his arms crossed over his chest.

She nodded to Bud, then Simon. “Alright then, good day, gentleman.” She made her way to the stairs, pushed the steel door open and let it close behind her before she stopped to listen.

Crimson could just make out their words. Simson said something about Bud keeping his hands to himself. Bud asked why, and Simon informed him that Negan was very interested in fucking her, and apparently he didn’t like to share. Bud didn’t say anything else and then the sounds of heavy boots hitting floor echoed down the hall.

It was important to make friends with the lieutenants. You never knew when you would need a favor from someone, a favor that could mean life or death. And if anything even happened to Negan and leadership changed, she wanted to be in good standings with whoever stepped up. Most men didn’t share Negan’s no rape ideals. Bud was easy to read. Flash him a smile, stroke his ego a little, don’t speak poorly of his leader, and he was done for.

Simon, on the other hand, was going to be a little more difficult. He was already suspicious of her. Maybe because he knew she killed one of their men, and kept a gun hidden from Negan. He knew she wasn’t just a pretty face. If she hadn’t jumped in and saved Negan, she’d still have that gun inside the walls of Sanctuary. She could only hope the rest of the lieutenants would be as easy as Bud. Except Paula, Crimson knew most women hated her so this Paula was likely to be as difficult as Simon, maybe more so.

It only took a minute to get up the stairs to the 10th floor. The hallway was empty when she opened the heavy door, Negan’s door was closed, so she went straight to the bathroom and locked the door behind her. She quickly relieved herself, washed the dried sweat off of her face and neck in the sink and used the toothbrush and toothpaste she’d found still in their packaging last night. After she pulled her hair back into a ponytail, she pulled the door open and slammed straight into Negan’s chest.

“Woah there doll!” Negan said, his large hands softly grabbed her arms to steady her. “Might want to watch where you’re going.”

“Sorry!” she exclaimed, her heart pounding in her chest again, the way it always seemed to when he was around.

“No worries, just don’t fall down the fucking stairs or something. It’s only 7:30, but if you’re ready, I’ll take you on your detailed tour of our home.” He held his arm out for her so she took it.

“Did you need to use the bathroom before we go?”

“No, I have my own bathroom. None of my wives get up this early, so when I heard someone at this end of the hall, I figured it was you. Where would you like to start?” he asked on their way down the hall towards the elevator.

“Why don’t we start with the main floor? Seems like most of the important things are down there, and I’d like to see my clinic soon.”

“First floor it is,” Negan said as he hit the button. “How’d you sleep?”

“Fine, thank you for asking. It was nice sleeping in a real bed and not worrying about being overrun by deadheads in the middle of the night.”

“You sure as shit don’t have to worry about that here. No one bothered you, right?”

“No. I saw Simon in the hall this morning, and met Bud. He seems nice.”

“He is, if you stay on his good side. He has a habit of shooting people he doesn’t like.” The elevator dinged and the door glided open. “Let’s start with the cafeteria, grab something to eat before we get to the fun stuff.” He placed his free hand over hers again, like this was some sort of date.

As he led her down the hall, people, both adults and the occasional child, dropped to their knees and bowed their heads. Some muttered “Negan” to greet him before they did, others were silent. It was so unnerving, Crimson didn’t know if she would ever get used to it. She never saw them standing when she glanced back over her shoulder, so they must have waited until Negan was completely out of sight before they stood up.

He took her through an open set of swinging double doors, she could see the doors were propped open at the base with door jams. The smell of cooking breakfast hit her nose and her mouth began to water. Hot oatmeal had never smelled so amazing. When she was on her own, breakfast usually consisted of a protein bar, stale crackers, a canned vegetable, or whatever wild berries she could find in the right season.

“That smells delicious,” she told him. He brought her over at an empty table before sitting down next to her and nodding towards one of the cooks behind the serving counter. The cook immediately brought over two bowls with spoons and two small glasses of orange juice. Crimson noticed that no one else had orange juice, just water. It must cost extra.

“Oatmeal? This fucking sucks. Have breakfast with me tomorrow. You eat eggs?”

“Yes.”

“Great! I’ll have some eggs and potatoes cooked up in the morning for us.”

“Where do you get eggs and all those fresh potatoes?” She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.

“We have a farming community that supplies us. The good, fresh shit costs a lot of fucking points so you won’t see it served in here. They get the pork and beef remnants for sausage when we get fresh meat in so nothing gets wasted. Don’t eat in here on those days. That shit smells worse than dog food.”

They finished their oatmeal in silence. Crimson watched as people walked by Negan, bowing their heads to him each time they passed. People came in, got in line, and checked in with the first man behind the counter who had a large notepad where he would make a mark for each person. He must have been keeping track of points. After they checked in, people moved down the line, got a bowl of oatmeal and glass of water, sat down at any table that wasn’t Negan’s, ate, then brought their bowls to a table by the door. Crimson stood up and went to grab her bowl, but Negan’s hand caught hers.

“Leave it,” he offered his arm to her again, and she took it. It was like she couldn’t walk around the place without him. That, or she was some sort of trophy and he was letting everyone know she was off-limits. Or maybe both.

He took her further down the large hall, pointing out small things as they went, like a bathroom there or an office where they kept track of points and people could bring up minor concerns like a faulty faucet. Eventually they reached the rooms she’d had assumed were the marketplace, and she’d guessed correctly.

“Pick out whatever you want, let me know when you’re ready and I’ll show you your clinic. Don’t take too long.” Negan left her to speak to the shop keepers. She assumed he was letting them know she didn’t need points for anything. She looked around the tables and noticed each item had a piece of paper with the number next to it, indicating the amount of points needed for each thing. She wasn’t sure how much a point was truly worth, how much work went in to earning points and how many could realistically be earned.

The shops were somewhat organized, large shelving systems like you’d find in a small grocery store displayed them items. Food items were kept together, toiletries had a large section, electronics, clothes, and she noticed weapons were kept right next to one of the checkout counter.

Crimson found a hand basket and loaded it up with food. She found Poptarts that had only expired a year ago, a couple of cans of soup, a fresh loaf of bread along with a small jar of peanut butter and home canned grape jelly. She couldn’t resist grabbing a couple cans of genuine Coca-Cola along with some bottled water. Then she moved on to the toiletries and grabbed a hair brush, a bar of soap, and dental floss. She grabbed a bottle of shampoo but remembered the wives’ bathroom was fully stocked so she set it back down. There was a large section of books, so she grabbed a couple of Stephen King novels without looking at the titles, something to get her started until she could come back and browse when she wasn’t on Negan’s time.

In the clothing section, she found a couple of plain fitted women’s t-shirts in her size, so she grabbed them along with another pair of jeans, and a 6 pack of plain women’s underwear. There were no bras in her size, and no other jeans or pants that would fit her. She brought her basket over to the counter, where Negan was still talking to the shop keeper behind the counter. He was casually leaning on his arm that was resting on the counter, like he didn’t know how cocky he looked standing like that. There was a 32” flat panel TV and DVD player next to him.

“Good morning Ma’am,” the shopkeeper greeted her. He was a portly looking older man who didn’t look like he’d survive too long on his own outside of these walls. “I’m George. Did you find everything alright?”

“Yes, I did. Pleasure to meet you George, I’m Crimson.”

“You didn’t want to grab anything to spruce up that depressing ass room?” Negan asked, then gestured towards the TV with his thumb. “This is the biggest TV anyone is allowed. No need to waste power on anything else bigger.”

“That will be fine, thank you. I didn’t see anything I liked. If I can go out on a run this week, I can get some things from some houses nearby.”

“I’ll arrange an outing for you tomorrow. There’s a housing development about 30 minutes away that we haven’t taken the non-essentials from yet, all still full of that house-wife went crazy decorating shit.” The shopkeeper took a note of each item she took and she unconsciously raised an eyebrow. “He’s not marking points, just the inventory log. We keep track of everything that comes and goes. There have been a few times shit went missing and I had to beat the piss out of the thief when we caught them. Come on, let’s go see your clinic.”

This time she took his arm without his offering and he smiled down at her.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Slight spoiler alert in my notes, so don’t read this note if you haven’t seen Season 7, episode 4!! This episode was amazing and terrible, all at the same time. Seeing Daryl like that made me cry a little, but Negan was hilarious. Was I the only one that couldn’t stop laughing at Negan’s response when Father Gabriel snuck up on him?

The walk to the clinic was short from the shops. Negan said someone would bring her new things to her room so they would be waiting for her. The clinic was a large, open room with an exam table in the middle. The countertops with cabinets and drawers that lined the walls were surprisingly bare. Crimson almost didn’t notice the mouse of a woman who was sitting on a stool in the corner. She hadn’t noticed them enter.

“That’s Nancy, our nurse. Nurse Nancy, fucking awesome name, right?” Nancy practically fell off of the stool and to her knees when she heard Negan. “She was one of those school nurses, dealing with puking kids and headaches, not the kind of shit we need taken care of, so she kinda sucks at her job. Isn’t that right, Nancy?”

“Yes, Negan, I’m so sorry,” Nancy said with her head down. Crimson could just see her face. She was plain looking women, maybe in her mid-forties, with bushy brown hair and glasses.

“Not to worry, we’ve got a real Doc to give you some direction now. Just don’t fuck up, you don’t have any excuses anymore.” He turned to Crimson. “She did an okay job with the basic stuff, like keeping minor shit from getting infected, and she does all the screenings on the new people. Everyone gets a checkup when they come in. Can’t have fucking Typhoid Mary coming in here and killing my people. That includes an STD check, don’t need that shit getting spread around either.”

Crimson glanced around the clinic until she found what looked like a small laboratory set up in the corner Nancy had been sitting. There was a basic microscope on the counter, and she found simple supplies like test tubes, petri dishes, swabs, syringes, even chromatography paper. But they were lacking a lot of important testing supplies.

“Nancy,” the small woman raised her head, unsure if she should stand in Negan’s presence. “It looks like you grow bacterial cultures and immunochromatography for tests, but nothing else. Is that right?”

“Yes Ma’am,” Nancy answered.

“Well Negan, the good thing about you finding a vet instead of a human doctor is that vets do a lot of their own testing. This lab is pathetic. Is there a college nearby?”

“We got one of those community colleges about an hour away.”

“Good. We’ll need to go there, and hit at least one veterinary office tomorrow.” She began searching through the cabinets. They had a good amount of supplies, and the medication cabinet was well stocked. “Looks pretty well stocked. How fast do you go through things?” Her only answer was silence until Negan spoke.

“Well Nancy, the lady asked you a fucking question,” he said.

“We can never have enough bandages and sutures, but medications usually last a while,” Nancy said. “Not a lot of people have enough points for them.”

Crimson was stretching up, standing on her tip toes to reach the bottles on the middle shelf, looking at each label and shaking them to gauge how full they were. She didn’t notice how her tank top was riding up, revealing several inches of creamy skin on her stomach and back. But Negan noticed.

“Nancy, get the fuck out of here,” he barked at her. She scrambled to her feet and practically bolted out of the door, which Negan shut behind her. He leaned his back against the door so he could watch Crimson. “Do we need to have Nancy do a check up and run those tests for you today?”

“No need to waste the supplies, there’s nothing wrong with me. I’ll check my own vitals later.”

Crimson couldn’t reach the last three shelves, so she climbed up the counter and she was on her knees, still stretching up to reach the top shelf.

“What about the STD tests?”

“No point in that, I haven’t been with anyone since this all started. There’s no way I had anything then, but if I did I’d know by now, symptoms would be obvious, or I’d be dead, depending on the disease.” She was struggling to reach the last bottle on the top shelf and felt herself lose her balance when Negan was suddenly behind her.

“Having some trouble, Doc?” His hands were on her waist, steadying her as she set the bottle back down. She could feel the cool, soft, leather of his glove on her left side, and the warm roughness of his skin against hers on the right. His thumbs were drawing circles on her skin, it felt like fire and ice against her flesh.

“No,” her voice caught in her throat, which she cleared before she spoke again. “I’m fine. I just need to get down.”

“Allow me,” Negan slid his left hand around her stomach, wrapped all the way around her waist before be pulled her back into his chest and lifted her off of the counter with ease, then set her feet to the floor. She immediately gripped the counter for support. He didn’t loosen his grip when he leaned forward, his breath caressing the back of her neck. “Wouldn’t be a fucking gentleman if I didn’t help a lady when she needs it.”

Crimson steadied herself and turned around in his arms so her face was almost against his chest. She was trapped between him and the counter, so she put both hands on his chest and gently pushed him as she looked up at him. He didn’t budge.

“I said I’m fine. You can let go of me now.”

“You sure that’s what you really want? You’re shaking like a fucking leaf, but that ain’t fear in your eyes. I think you want me to set that beautiful ass of yours on this counter and fuck you ‘til you’re screaming my name.” He slide his right leg between hers until it was pressed into her core. “I can feel how hot you are right now. I bet if I slipped my hand into your panties right now, your pussy is already dripping for me.”

He was right, she could feel the damp heat between her legs, the kind of desire she’d only felt for one man before.

“I said no.” She pushed him again, this time with some force and he allowed a few inches of space between them. “I told you I’m a one man, one woman kind of girl. So much so, I’ve only been with one man. A little bit of physical attraction isn’t going to change that, so sorry to disappoint you. Now get off of me.”

Negan smiled as he stepped back, dropping his hands from her body. “So you admit you’re attracted to me?”

“Obviously. You’re a handsome man, intelligent, and charismatic. Ugly men don’t get cult followings and a harem of willing women. That doesn’t mean I’m going to rip my clothes off and tell you to fuck me on the counter. So you can leave now, I’d like to finish setting up my clinic in peace!” Crimson was yelling at the end. She wasn’t sure if she was more angry at him for continuing to push himself on her even after she’d told him no last night, or more angry at herself for being so turned on by him. Negan wasn’t smiling at her anymore.

“You’re pissed, I get it,” he said. “I’ll leave you alone, let you calm the fuck down. I’ll be back to pick you up for dinner. You’d better not still be yelling by then. That shit is downright disrespectful.” He opened the door and left, not waiting for her response. Without even thinking, she picked up a beaker that was sitting on the counter and chucked it at the door as it closed behind him. It did nothing to quiet her anger as it shattered against the door, sending shards of glass across the floor. That arrogant bastard thought he could order her to stop being angry when he was doing what she’d told him not to? He was dead wrong.

She was surprised when the door opened again and Negan came storming back in.

“What the FUCK was that!?” He stopped just inside the clinic, the door shutting behind him.

“It was a beaker and lucky for you I was aiming for the door, and not your head you arrogant prick!”

“Are you out of your god damn mind woman? I should fucking kill you for that shit!” Negan was loud, but he wasn’t screaming like she was.

“Go ahead and try, you tyrant asshole!”

Negan moved towards her, and she stepped forward to meet him. He grabbed her hard by her upper arms and she could see the fury in his eyes.

“You’re not afraid of me, are you?”

“No,” she said, every bit of her standing tall, proud and defiant. “Fear is useless.”

She didn’t even have time to register what was happening when one hand grabbed her waist, the other threaded through her hair and his lips came crashing down on hers. There was nothing soft or gentle about his kiss. It was fierce, commanding, and she opened to his demanding tongue as she wrapped her arms around his neck to pull him closer, tangling her fingers in his thick hair. He tasted like he felt, hot, hard, masculine, and powerful. There was a fire running through her veins, she couldn’t remember ever feeling so alive. His tongue stroked hers, promising all of the things he could do to her. She hadn’t even noticed they were moving until the exam table hit her lower back and he lifted her up so she was sitting on it, his lips never leaving herself. His hands were on her knees, sliding up the inside of her thighs, spreading them until he could fit between them, then pulled her into his chest. His hands were sending tremors down her spine.

When she felt him, large and hard, pressed into her core, with only a few pieces of clothing separating them, she snapped back into reality and pulled away from him.

“Stop,” she panted. “Stop, we can’t do this.” His gloved hand came up to her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

“Why the hell not?” He was almost as breathless as she was, his voice was so low he was practically growling at her.

“I’ve only known you for two days!”

“Jesus fucking Christ sweetheart, this is the mother fucking apocalypse, two days is like two months when you can die any damned minute.” He leaned down to kiss her again, but she pulled back, putting both of her hands on his chest. He stopped when he could see the shame and confusion in her eyes.

“That doesn’t matter. I’m not that kind of girl. I could never sleep with a man who shares his bed with any other woman, it’s disgusting and I have far too much self-respect for that. You share yours with three.”

“What do you want to do?” His thumb was still softly stroking her cheek.

“Nothing,” she said as she pushed him away and hopped off of the table. “Just leave me alone and go back to your wives. I get why you have them, the symbolism and power they represent, but keep your hands off of me as long as you have them.”

Negan didn’t have a chance to answer before the door swung open and Bud walked in.

“Hey there, Doc! I…” he cut himself off when he saw Negan and dropped to one knee. “Sorry Negan, I didn’t see you.”

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Negan asked.

“Ms. Crimson was kind enough to offer to fix my stitches this morning, she told me to come see her here today.”

“Is that right?” He turned to her. “You already offering free medical care?”

“Bud is a lieutenant, I assumed his medical care was free.” Negan cocked his head at her and smiled.

“Lucky for you, you’re right. I’ll be back in a couple hours to get you for dinner.” Bud waited until Negan’s boots were echoing down the hallway before he stood.

“Take a seat on table and pull your sleeve up,” Crimson told him while she found a pair of surgical scissors, a pre-threaded suture needle, gauze, iodine, and then used the sink to fill a small bowl with water. The scissors and sutures were still in their sterilized packaging, so she only needed a little iodine to clean the wound. She set everything on the table with Bud and poured a small amount of iodine into the water. She washed her hands, slipped on a pair of medical gloves and used her foot to push a rolling stool in front of Bud before she sat down on it. She dipped some gauze into the iodine mixture and took his arm into her hand, gently running the wet gauze down the wound. “This is going to hurt.”

“That’s alright, can’t hurt any worse then when Nancy did it the first time.”

“Hopefully not. Just try to hold still.”

It only took a few minutes to remove the sloppy stitches, cleanse the wound again, and stitch it back up with neat, even sutures. Bud didn’t flinch. He was tougher than she first gave him credit for.

“There,” she patted his hand before she released it with a smile and stood up. “Now that’ll heal up better now. Try not to be too rough on it. I’ll need to see you back here next week to remove them.”

“Thanks Doc, very kind of you. I see some glass on the floor, you need help cleaning that up?”

“No, I can get it. But thank you.”

“You enjoy the rest of your day now. If you need anything, or anyone is giving you trouble, you let me know.” He gave her a smile and a nod before he left. She closed the door and looked up and the clock on the wall. She had a couple of hours to collect her thoughts before Negan would be back for her. She found a small broom and dustpan to clean up the broken glass, so lost in her own thoughts she was only half aware of what she was doing.

He didn’t say anything when he walked in the door to the clinic. He just offered her his arm, which she took without question, he had Lucille in his other hand, and he navigated them back through the halls to the elevator, then to the 10th floor and into his office. The table was already set for two, the plates were covered with metal warmers, waiting for them. He pulled her chair out for her as he did the night before, and pushed her in before taking his own seat. He was reaching over to pull the covers off the plates when there was a soft knock on his office door.

“What?” he yelled towards the door. A pretty girl with short blonde hair poked her head inside.

“Negan, I… Oh, sorry, didn’t know you had company.”

“What in the ever loving fuck do you want, Amber?”

“I thought you might want company for dinner, but I guess you already got some.”

“Yeah, I fucking do. And I will every night from now on. If I want you to suck my cock, I’ll come to you, so get the fuck out.” Amber squeaked in surprise and quickly shut the door. “Sorry about that, fucking girl doesn’t know her place sometimes.” Crimson rolled her eyes at him, then grabbed her napkin and set it across her lap. “What?”

“The way you speak to woman,” she said.  “It’s so degrading. I find it revolting.”

“I only treat ‘em like that when they deserve it. I didn’t even have to ask Amber to marry me. She offered herself up and stuck my dick down her throat before she even knew how much she’d get from it. Sucking dick’s the only thing she’s good at, useless as tits on a bull other than that.”

“If you ever speak to me like that, or about me like that, and I’ll carve your vocal cords out of your throat.” Negan smiled.

“And that, doll, that fire of yours, is exactly why the fuck I won’t. You respect yourself, know how to take care of yourself, so I respect the shit out of you.” He lifted the covers off of both of their plates and set them aside. “Wild mushroom risotto. Cook said it’s great. I made one of the dishwashers eat a couple mushroom in case some dumb shit can’t tell the poisonous ones from the good ones.   Kind of looks like shit though.” Crimson could see that Negan had chicken on top of his, which he ate first.

“It smells delicious though. You said you have suppliers, do you trade for food?” She asked.

“Sort of.”

“What does that mean?”

“Means other communities give me half their shit, and in return I don’t skull fuck them. And we kill the dead fucks, keep them from over running their areas.”

“I’d assume no one is happy about that.”

“Nah, but they don’t have much of a choice.”

“I haven’t seen any place around here where you grow your own food.”

“Well we didn’t finish the tour, after the clinic, but we have a couple of small gardens outside and some chickens for eggs between pick ups.”

“But not enough to supply food for everyone here year round?”

“No, not that much, why?”

“Just trying to get a feel for how everything runs around here. When is your next supply pick up?”

“Day after tomorrow.”

“I’d like to come with.”

“Going on a personal run tomorrow, and you want to go on a pick up after that, you itching to get out of here?”

“No, I just like to stay sharp, and I want to see how you and your men do things. I’ve seen groups fall apart, so I’m not going to really trust that things are good here until I see it all for myself.”

“Alright, you can come as long as you don’t cause any trouble.”

“You’ve already seen me in action, you know I’ll be an asset, not a liability.” She’d finished her meal, so she set her napkin down and made her way over to his book cases. She ran her fingers down the spines as she read the titles. There were a lot of classics, Charles Dickinson, Mark Twain, Ernest Hemingway, Jane Austin. She paused when she found The Art of War. “Have you read all of these?”

“Most of them,” he said. “Some of them I’m still getting to.”

“I think it’s time for me to head back to my room now. I’m tired.”

“Not bedtime yet baby doll. We’ve got a meeting tonight, attendance ain’t optional.”

“Meeting? What for?”

“You remember those three giant, pissing their pants pussies that were going to leave me for dead? They’re getting punished tonight, and everyone gets to watch. They all need to know what happens when you betray me. Let me walk you to the auditorium, I’ll get you a front row seat to the ‘Don’t Fuck with Me Show’.”

The auditorium was a large, open room in the middle of the first floor. A very large crowd was gathered, it looked like most of Sanctuary’s resident were already there. And in typical, creepy cult fashion, they all fell to their knees and bowed when Negan entered. The man knew how to make an entrance, doors slamming, filling the room with his powerful presence as he strutted in. There were only a few rows of chairs in the front, near a makeshift stage where the three men she recognized where on their knees, Simon, Bud, and a woman she didn’t recognize each had a gun to the back of one of the men’s heads. He took her to the front and center seat before he jumped up on the stage, Lucille never leaving his gloved hand. It was mostly men who had been sitting down, now on their knees in front of their chairs. They looked like soldiers. She saw Sherry, Amber, and another women slightly hidden next to Amber, all on their knees in front of their seats to her right.

“Well now, thank you all so fucking much for coming. I’d like to start with an introduction, we got ourselves a new, honest to God real doctor. Crimson, stand the fuck up and say hi.” Crimson stood and faced the crowd, and gave them a wave. “Sit back down. Everyone else, stand the fuck up. I want to make sure everyone has a real good view of this shit.” As Crimson sat back down, she heard the rustling of feet as everyone stood up. “These three sorry pieces of dog shit were supposed to have my back on a run yesterday. We ran into a herd of dead fucks and they were ordered up on the trucks with rifles to take as many down as they could, which they did. But when they ran out of ammo, instead of coming down and fighting on the ground like men, these cocksuckers thought they could just sit up there, saving their own worthless asses, while we got tore apart on the ground. We lost some real fucking good men. That shit is un-fucking-acceptable” There was an outcry from the crowd. Crimson turned her head to glance at the crowd behind her. Some people were standing silently, but others were yelling, fists pumping in the air. She heard some screaming for Lucille to bash their heads in, others were crying out for them to be thrown on the fences, and she heard something about an iron, whatever that was. Apparently some of these people really loved Negan.

“Settle down,” Negan yelled over the crowd who immediately quieted. “Settle down. Of course I can’t have some spineless sacks of shit for soldiers. But what to do with these three, who were willing to stand there and do nothing. Someone’s gotta die for that.”

“I’m sorry Negan,” one of the men cried out. “I knew you’d be okay, you ain’t gonna be taken out by a bunch of walkers! You…” He didn’t get to finish his last sentence because Lucille smashed him across his jaw. Her barbed wire ripped through his flesh, bits of skin and blood splattered the stage. His screams of pain were muffled by his obviously broken jaw as he fell to his side.

“Oh baby, that was a good fucking hit! Well now, I guess you’re the one who’s getting the shit beat out of you.” Negan’s eyes were wild, he was blood thirsty. He brought Lucille down again over his head. Then again, and again, and again until there was nothing left but blood and brain matter and some small skull fragments. Crimson could see how he loved every second of it when that bat was swinging so gracefully, guided by his expert hands. She wasn’t sure what to think. It was beautiful when she watched him work before, cutting down dead heads left and right, but when it was a real, live human being he was beating into oblivion, it was different.

But was she any different? She’s lost count of the number of people she’d killed to survive, and that’s exactly what he was doing, surviving. Negan wouldn’t last long as a leader if one of his Saviors smelled a hint of weakness. They were like wolves, who would follow their leader to the ends of the Earth as long as he was the strongest, but that Alpha male would have his throat ripped out the moment another wolf found a weakness. No, she would have killed all of those men had she been in his position. She just wouldn’t have made such a show of it.

“He’s been taken care of. Now what do I do with you two? I certainly can’t trust you with anything important. I think you’ll be working the fences from now on. Simon, beat ‘em until they’ve shit themselves, let them sit in the cells for a few more days, then put them to work on the fences. You’re all dismissed.” He jumped off the stage, Lucille leaving a trail of blood behind him. Everyone dropped to their knees again, except Crimson who remained in her seat. “Show’s over baby doll, I’ll take you back to your room.” He offered his arm to her, but she shook her head at him.

“You’re covered in blood.” Negan glanced down at his offered left arm.

“I sure as shit am! He was an extra messy one,” he flecked a piece of brain matter off of his arm, onto the floor. “That blood was squirting every fucking where. I need a god damn shower now. Come on.” People scrambled on their hands and knees to form a path to the door. His usual swagger was exaggerated as he made his exit.

He didn’t speak again until they reached the elevator. “You enjoy the show?”

“Not at all, but I get why you had to do it.”

“It tickles my balls to hear that.” He smiled at her. “You didn’t even lose your dinner. Most people do the first time I deal out a punishment.”

She shrugged. “I’ve got a strong stomach. Some of the crap I had to see and do during school might even turn your stomach a little.”

“I doubt that.” The elevator dinged at the 9th floor and he walked her to the end of the hall. “And before I forget,” he dug into his pocket and pulled out a key. “The key to your room, so you can lock it when you leave.” He dropped the key into her hand, then turned it over and placed a soft kiss to her skin. “Good night, I’ll see you at 8am sharp, be ready to head straight out.” She watched him until he disappeared behind the door to the stairwell.

She looked down at the back of her hand. He’d left smears of blood on it. She could make out the shape of his lips in the red streaks.

 


	8. Chapter 8

Crimson found her new things waiting for her on her kitchenette counter top, as promised. She opened the fridge and found her drinks cooling. The freezer was empty, except for two ice trays. She hadn’t tasted an ice cold drink since a few weeks after the outbreak started and the power went out across the country. She found clean glasses in one of the cabinets, dropped a couple ice cubes in one, cracked open a can of Coke and enjoyed the fizzy carbonation more than she should have.

She sat down on the couch, which felt like it was brand new, to enjoy her drink. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get Negan’s kiss out of her head. She’d only kissed a few men before, and only one had set her on fire the way Negan had. The biggest disadvantage of genius was that she started her bachelor’s degree at 14 when everyone else in her classes were at least 18. She finished in 2 years and went straight into veterinary school at 16, when everyone else was 22 or older. She made a few friends, she grew up hanging around kids much older than herself, but statutory rape wasn’t something anyone wanted to mess with, and the kind of guys that were willing weren’t the kind she had any interest in. Her first real anything hadn’t been until she was 18 and was back home for her first day of summer break, hanging out at the local, backwoods biker bar she’d practically grown up in with her parents.

_Crimson was outside the bar, leaning against the wall to get some fresh air. She’d had a few drinks, and was finishing off her last one for the night since she needed to drive herself home in a couple of hours. Tony, the owner, served anyone 18 and up, the cops never came around. She heard the creak of the swinging door and looked up to see her favorite redneck walking out._

_She’d known him her entire life. His older brother, who was 10 years older, was her dad’s drug dealer and best friend. Since he followed his brother everywhere, she couldn’t remember a time he hadn’t been in her life. When she was a child, he’d been like a big brother. As she hit her teenage years, he’d become one of her closest friends. When her dad and his brother were on a drunken, drug filled bender, he’d take her out hunting and taught her to track because she’d refuse to actually kill any animal. Sometimes he’d find a job at a bike shop and she’d go there after school to learn. She was always thirsty to learn, whether it was calculus, physics, philosophy, tracking a deer, or how to tune up a bike. He was 12 years older than her, but the older she was, the less the difference mattered._

_She smiled at him, giving him a once over while he headed her way. He was wearing his typical jeans and sleeveless button down shirt. She was 16 the first time she saw him in a new light. He was handsome with his messy brown hair, scruffy facial hair, deep blue eyes, and well-muscled body. Tonight was the first time she’d seen him since she turned 18 a couple of months ago. She knew he would never touch her when she was underage. He was a redneck, through and through, but he had morals._

_She’d worn her tightest, well fitted pair of jeans and black top with a deep, plunging neckline that complimented her chest while still leaving something to the imagination and a pair of strappy black heels. It had done exactly what she’d hoped, she’d noticed him looking at her a few times and he’d bit his lip and looked away each time she’d caught him._

_“Hey Redneck,” she called him that for years. “What are you doing out here?”_

_He took one last drag from his cigarette before he dropped it on the ground and leaned up against the wall next to her, his shoulders slouched and his head was down._

_“Nothin’, just checkin’ on you,” he said, his voice was quiet but gruff. “Hadn’t seen you in a few months. There’s some guys here tonight I don’t know, shouldn’t be out here alone, ‘specially since you been drinkin’.”_

_“I’m fine. I’ve just been nursing them all night, barely have a buzz.” She bumped him with her elbow. “You know that I know how to take care of myself, learned from the best.”_

_“Yeah, yeah you did.”_

_“Have you been seeing anyone since I left for school?” His head snapped up at her question._

_“Nah, but what kinda question is that?”_

_“I just wanted to make sure I’m not going to get knocked out but some girl when I do this.” She pushed herself off of the wall, liquid courage running through her as she pressed herself up against him and pulled his lips down to hers. He tasted like he smelled, earthy, pine, motor oil, and a hint of cigarette smoke that she could ignore when his tongue was stroking hers and he groaned quietly as she nibbled on his lower lip. She leaned back against the wall, pulling him with her when he seemed to realize what they were doing and pushed her away from him._

_“What the hell you doin’?!”_

_“I thought it was pretty obvious, but we were kissing.”_

_“We can’t be doing that.”_

_“Why not? I’m 18 now.”_

_“What’s wrong with you?! Don’t you got some soon to be doctor boyfriend back at that fancy ass University?” He was picking at his thumb and chewing on his lips like he always did when he was nervous or unsure, and pacing like he did when he was angry._

_“No, and there’s no one there I’m interested in, so stop yelling.” She grabbed his arm so he had to stand still in front of her. “There’s no reason to stop unless you just don’t find me attractive. If that’s the case, just say so, but I don’t think it is, not after that kiss.”_

_“Shit, you the prettiest girl in the damn county and you don’t need me tellin’ you that.”_

_She stepped back towards him and reached up to softly grab his neck. “And you are the hottest man in the damned state, even if you don’t think so. Now just shut up and kiss me.” She pulled him back down but he resisted. “You’ve been looking at me all night, and not the same way you used to. We’re both adults.”_

_“You jus’ turned 18 and I ain’t no good for you. This place ain’t no good for you. I told when you left, you deserve better than anything here. ‘Sides, I ain’t no good at this shit. I ain’t gonna do nothin’ but disappoint you.”_

_“You know I’m more of an adult than most of the people in that bar. And you can’t disappoint me when there’s no one to compare to.” He was confused for a moment, then it clicked._

_“You sayin’ you a…”_

_“Virgin? Yes.”_

_“Nah, we really ain’t doing this. Jus’ go back inside and pretend nothin’ happened. You drunk more than you thought.” She pushed his chin up until he had no choice but to look her in the eyes._

_“Daryl Dixon, I want you. I’ve wanted you for the last 2 years. I don’t care if you think you’re not good enough for me, and I don’t care if you’ve never had a real relationship because you’ve always been too busy keeping Merle out of trouble and never thought anyone would care enough to try. I know you, and I know what a great man you are. I don’t want some University educated doctor or lawyer, I want you. So I’m going to go drop this glass off inside the bar and when I come back out, you’re going to take me home with you.”_

_That’s exactly what he did. She led him back to his bedroom in the run down little trailer he shared with Merle, who wouldn’t be home that night. But she shut Daryl’s bedroom door as she kicked off her shoes and switched off the light, just in case. She moved to him, knowing he wouldn’t come to her, and wrapped her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. She could feel him shaking when he grabbed her waist, but his kiss didn’t quite reflect his nerves. It was growing more confident with each breath and she let him take control of it, he knew far more about kissing than she did. She pulled him back until his bed hit the back of her legs, and she laid down, pulling him on top of her, their lips never leaving each other. His hands hadn’t moved from her waist, so she slid them up her sides underneath her shirt. His hands were warm and rough, the kind of hands that worked hard for a living._

_“You can touch me Daryl,” she said, her voice quiet and breathless. She nipped at his neck, then traced the small mark she left with her tongue and he groaned. “Please, please touch me.”_

_He reached under her back and unclipped her bra, then she sat up just enough to pull her shirt and bra off. He looked so unsure, his eyes flicking back and forth between her breasts and some imaginary spot on the bed while he pulled his lower lip through his teeth. She unbuttoned her jeans, hooked her thumbs through her panties and slid them down her long legs and tossed them on the floor. His room was dark, but the moonlight coming through the window was enough for them to see each other. She caught his face in her hands._

_“It’s okay to look at me. I want you to look, and I want you to touch.”_

_“I ain’t ever tried to please a woman before. It’s always just been a quick fuck.”_

_“That’s okay. I don’t even know what I like, so we’ll figure it out together.”_

_Daryl leaned down and captured her lips with his own, his trembling hands slowly slid up her chest until he reached her breasts. She gasped when the rough pads of his fingertips brushed her nipples. She reached up and quickly unbuttoned his shirt while his hands explored her chest._

_She knew about his scars and had seen them a few times before, but never in such an intimate way. He stiffened a little when she gently pushed his arms back so she could slip the shirt off, her fingers brushing his shoulders and the jagged marks down his back. A few seconds later, his pants and boxers joined the rest of their clothes on the floor. She crawled back so that she was in the middle of the bed before taking his hands and pulling him with her. She pushed him down so that he was sitting against the flimsy headboard and crawled onto his lap. She kissed his cheek, his jaw, and down his neck until she found the spot just above his collarbone. She realized her own hands were shaking when she reached between them to wrap her hand around him. He groaned when her hand found him, she gripped him softly but tightly and stroked, the sounds her touch elicited from him sent a tremor down her core. He was so hard, but his skin was hot, soft, smooth, and she felt a sticky wetness when her fingers brushed the tip. She didn't have any personal experience to compare him too, but based on what girls in her freshman dorm had said, he felt longer and thicker than the average guy._

_She experimented between long, slow strokes and hard, fast ones. He'd tilted his head back, his eyes closed, so she put her mouth back to work on his neck and picked up speed with her hands, pumping harder and faster. “God Daryl,” she whispered in his ear. “I want you inside of me so badly right now.”_

_“Fuck, Trix!” he yelled as he grabbed her hand to stop her. She looked at him, afraid she'd done something wrong when he pushed her down onto the bed, a growl deep in his throat as his lips captured a nipple. His right hand slipped between her legs. He wasn’t shaking anymore, apparently all Daryl Dixon needed was the right encouragement “God damn, you're so wet.”_

_She could feel her juices dripping down her thighs and her ass, leaving a wet spot on his sheets. She couldn’t stop the moan that slipped from her parted lips when he stroked a finger through her folds and into her wet heat. “That's how much I want you.” He leaned down and kissed her with a confidence he'd never had, pumping his finger into her, hard and fast. Her hips were thrusting up, matching the strokes of his hand. She took his other hand and guided it to the sweet spot above her entrance. “I need you to rub me, right there.” And he did. His thumb circled her clit, adding to the building pressure in her core. The thrusts of her hips were growing erratic, her muscles clenching around his fingers when the shockwave hit and she cried out. “Oh fuck Daryl!” He didn't pause until she stopped spasming around him, her body fell back onto his bed, shaking and covered in sweat._

_He pushed her legs further apart with his knee and slipped between them. “Ya sure you wanna do this? We can stop.” She could see him chewing on his bottom lip._

_“Don't you dare stop.” He nodded, but went to move off of her anyways. She grabbed his arm to stop him. “I gotta get a rubber.”_

_“Are you clean?”_

_“Yeah, got tested when Merle got the clap again last month. I never had anything.”_

_“Then you don't need one, I went on the pill last year.” He nodded and pressed his lips to hers until his body had hers pinned to the mattress. Her hands gripped his arms. He took himself into one hand and then she could feel him pressing into her entrance. She was so wet there was no resistance, but his girth was stretching her far more than her own fingers ever could and it wasn't exactly comfortable. When he reached her maidenhead, the sharp pain made her cry out and he stopped._

_“I hurtin’ you?”_

_“A little, but everyone says it hurts some the first time. Keep going.” He pressed harder and she dug her fingers into his biceps as he pushed through her innocence and didn’t stop until he was fully sheathed inside of her. He paused, dropping a kiss to her lips while she adjusted to him._

_“Yer so damn tight. You gotta relax or it ain't gonna feel good.” He stroked her hair with one hand and deepened his kiss. A few moments later, she felt her body relaxing around him and he began to move inside her. Within few slow strokes the pain subsided and the tingling of pleasure was starting to build. She lifted her hips to meet his, the change of the angle pushed him deeper inside. “This ok?”_

_“Oh god yes, but faster, please!” She wrapped her legs around him, his thrusts quickened, his hips rocking deliciously into hers, his cock stroking places inside of her that she didn’t know existed until now. An unfamiliar pressure was building deep within her. When she tossed her head back, gasping for breath, his mouth found the hollows of her throat and she couldn’t take it anymore. “I’m so close, touch me again.” He slipped his hand between them and his thumb circled her sweet spot and then she was falling, hearing a scream she barely recognized as her own. She could feel him pulsing inside of her as his thrusts grew erratic, and then he stilled, catching himself on his elbows as he collapsed on top of her. She smiled up at him, her fingers softly rubbing the marks her nails had left on his biceps._

_He rolled off of her, pulling her against his side as he laid back onto his bed. She curled up into his warm chest and couldn’t remember a thing after that._

She wanted to take a shower, maybe that would wash away the memories of the day. She looked down at her jeans, and thought they were still clean enough, so she only grabbed one of the new t-shirts and a clean pair of underwear. She went straight to bed after her shower and didn’t wake until the alarm was blaring in her face.

It didn’t take her long to get ready. She ate a poptart with a bottle of water, brushed her teeth in her kitchenette sink and threw her hair back into a neat ponytail. The alarm clock said it was 7:45am, so she laced up her boots and took the elevator to the first floor. Negan was already waiting, surrounded by a group of his Saviors. She saw recognized Simon, Bud, and Dwight. She saw the woman that had been onstage last night, she guessed that was Paula. There was one more, darker skinned woman who had her black curly hair bleached before the end of the world, there were another 15 or so men.

Negan turned to face her as the elevator doors opened and smiled.

“Good morning baby doll, right on time!”

“Good morning Negan,” she said as she approached him. “Are all these fine folks here for my little run?”

“They sure are. We’ve never been to that college or the two vet clinics Simon mapped out last night. 20 of my best Saviors, just in case we run into some bad shit. As they say, better safe than fucking sorry! And someone is always sorry when shit doesn’t go smooth.” He swung Lucille around once before resting her on his shoulder. “I believe these belong to you. Don’t fucking forget, I’ll be taking them back later.” He placed her pink .380, extra clip, boot knife, and bra holster in her hands. He leaned forward and whispered quietly enough that no one else would hear. “If you need help getting that holster nestled back between those perfect tits, I live to serve.”

She smiled as she tilted her face up to him, her lips just brushing against his ear lobe. “Good thing it fits just fine in my pocket.” She pulled away from him before she found Bud in the small crowd. “I thought I told you to take it easy.”

“No worries Doc, this’ll be easy as pie.”

“Just be careful, I don’t want to stitch you up again.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bud smiled at her. She was starting to think his smile was actually sincere.

“Crimson,” Negan called to her. “Up here with me. Everyone move out, it’s time to roll.”

There were 2 military trucks, a cargo van, and a delivery truck waiting at the gates. She wrinkled her nose at the putrid smell of the rotting dead heads on the fence and followed Negan to the delivery van. He took the driver’s seat, leaving the only passenger seat free.

“When do I get my bow back?”

“When I know you won’t run off when we’re outside the gates.” He started up the truck and fell second in line to the military truck Simon was driving.

“So that’s why you only gave me 12 rounds, worried I’m going to take off the first chance I get?”

“Fucking right.” He tossed her an iPod that was plugged into the stereo. “We’re heading to the college first, get you your fancy fucking lab equipment, then we’ll make our way back home hitting a couple clinics so you can get your doctoring shit and then the subdivision to get your lady shit. Got an hour drive, put on something good.” She was scanning through the artist. It was hard to decide which artist should be the first one she listened to in nearly 3 years. “You still haven’t told me your real name. I know you said it doesn’t matter anymore, but I’m real fucking curious.”

“It’s Trixielynn.” Negan laughed.

“That’s the most un-fucking-fitting name I’ve ever heard!”

“Yeah, I know. Apparently my parents thought I’d grow up to be a stripper or something.”

“Oh you’d be great at that baby doll.”

“Sorry to disappoint, but that’s never going to happen. So let’s just stick to calling me Crimson, or Doc. I’m not your baby doll.”

“You sure are, you just don’t know it yet,” Negan grinned and gave her a wink. She shook her head, continuing to flip through the available songs on the iPod. It seemed to be fully loaded. She found what she was looking for and hit play. She turned the music up, and began to softly sing along. Her vocals were soft, strong, melodic, a little hypnotic.

What's coming through is alive  
What's holding up is a mirror  
But what's singing songs is a snake  
Looking to turn this piss to wine  
They're both totally void of hate  
But killing me just the same  
The snake behind me hisses  
What my damage could have been  
My blood before me begs me  
Open up my heart again  
And I feel this coming over like a storm again  
Considerately  
  
Venomous voice, tempts me  
Drains me, bleeds me  
Leaves me cracked and empty  
Drags me down like some sweet gravity  
  
The snake behind me hisses  
What my damage could have been  
My blood before me begs me  
Open up my heart again  
And I feel this coming over like a storm again  
And I feel this coming over like a storm again  
  
I am too connected to you to  
Slip away, to fade away  
Days away I still feel you  
Touching me, changing me  
And considerately killing me  
And considerately killing me  
And considerately killing me  
And considerately killing me  
  
Without the skin  
Beneath the storm  
Under these tears  
The walls came down  
And the snake is drowned and  
As I look in his eyes  
My fear begins to fade  
Recalling all of those times  
I could have cried then  
I should have cried then  
And as the walls come down and  
As I look in your eyes  
My fear begins to fade  
Recalling all of the times  
I have died  
And will die  
It's all right  
I don't mind  
I don't mind  
I don't mind  
I am too connected to you to  
Slip away, to fade away  
Days away I still feel you  
Touching me, changing me  
And considerately killing me  
And considerately killing me  
And considerately killing me

“Where the hell did you get a set of pipes like that?” Negan actually sounded amazed.

“I was eight the first time I told my parents they were worthless junkies. My mother thought I needed Jesus, so I had to spend all day at the church on Sundays. It was either 8 hours of bible study, or choir with a few hours of scripture reading. I picked choir.”

“Huh, well, now I’m the only damn god you need.”

“I know you have a serious case of post-apocalyptic narcissism, but you don’t actually think you’re a god, do you?”

“A lot of my people think I am.”

“A lot of your people are idiots who are willing to follow anyone who can keep them alive because they’re too weak to survive on their own.”

“That may be true, but they’re still loyal.”

“Fear doesn’t create loyalty.”

“You’re not afraid, yet here you fucking are.”

“That’s because I’m still deciding if it’s worth staying, or if I’m better off back on my own.”

“That’s better than the ‘no fucking way I’m coming with you’ bullshit you had going on a few days ago. Told you I’d grow on you. So what do we need to get at the college?”

“A couple of real microscopes, not that kid’s toy kit you have now. I need as many slides and as much stain as we can take, a centrifuge, scales, a spectrophotometer, more test tubes, and I want to check the chemical cabinets for things we might be able to use.”

“I don’t have a fucking clue what half that shit is, so I’ll just trust that you really need it.”

“I do.”

They spent the rest of the drive in a comfortable silence, very different from when he brought her to Sanctuary a few days ago. The route was clear, until they left the main road. The last truck stopped long enough for a couple of guys to jump out and take care of them as they found them. A few minutes later, the campus came into view.

It was a large, old, brick building. The parking lot was empty, but she pulled out her boot knife, just in case, before she slid open the passenger door and jumped out. Everyone gathered around Negan.

“We need to scout the building before we decide where to breech. I want a clean fucking entrance and a clean exit. If there are a bunch of those dead fucks walking around the halls, I wanna know about it before we go in. Chris, get all the chains out of the truck, if we don’t know what’s behind a door and we don’t need to go in, I want it chained the fuck shut. Jay, you’re up, I’d better know every god damned thing about this place when you get back.”

One man, attractive, in his mid to late 30s with short, dark brown hair, a short beard, and tattoos covering his arms nodded to Negan and moved towards the school. He looked vaguely familiar, but she couldn’t tell if she knew him or not. He had an assault rifle in his hands and a hunting knife strapped to his thigh.

“Wait,” Crimson said. “I’ll go with him.”

“No you fucking won’t,” Negan replied.

“I know exactly what I’m looking for, no one else does. Everything I need is going to be in one part of the building. If we know exactly where were need to be, then we only have to secure a small section and can be in and out in no time.”

“Fine, go.”

She noted that the building looked untouched and she and Jay approached. The doors were closed and all of the windows were intact. Other than the layers of dust and grime coating the glass, it probably looked the same as it always had.

“I’m Crimson,” she said, holding her hand out to him. He smiled a very sweet smile at her and shook her hand, then introduced himself as Jason. “I’d like to take a look through the windows as we go. Everything I need will be in the chemistry and biology labs which I can recognize.”

“Alright, you take the lead.”

The both knew better than to speak as they worked their way around the building. There was one dead head, stuck in an overgrown shrub, around the back of the building that she put down quietly with her knife. It was eerily empty other than that. The hallways looked clean, no signs of anything living, dead, or undead. The laboratories she needed were both around back.

“There,” she whispered as she pointed to the window. “That’s where were need to go.”

“Ok,” he said quietly. “Let’s keep moving, check out the rest of the building just in case.”

The scouted the rest of the building and still found nothing, so they returned to the group.

“Easiest entry is through an emergency exit around back, next to the lab,” she told them. “No signs of anything inside, so let’s hope it stays that way.”

“You heard the lady,” Negan said.

Everything went surprisingly smooth. Someone broke the lock on the door, they entered quietly, she found everything she’d hoped for, and the Savior’s loaded everything onto the trucks.

The first vet office was a bust, it had already been raided, but the second was fully loaded with equipment and medication.

“You want all of the meds, Doc?” Bud asked after they’d cleared the small clinic.

“Yes, a lot of them can be used in humans. The ones that can’t will be useful for livestock. Grab it all and we’ll get out of here.”

She traveled with Negan between each stop. Sometimes they were silent, listening to the iPod, and sometimes they had normal conversation, as normal as you can with Negan’s crude mouth. She asked more questions about how things worked at Sanctuary, he still wanted to know more about her. The questions and answers lead to other discussions and she found that she was actually enjoying his company. He was intelligent, funny, and she couldn’t deny that he had charisma and charm.

“Last stop baby doll,” he said as they rolled down the middle of the suburban style street.

“Are you really going to keep calling me that?” she asked.

“I could call you sweetcheeks because that ass of yours is damn fine.” He grinned at her. She laughed and shook her head at him.

“Baby doll it is then. Have all of these houses been cleared already?” The subdivision was small, only one short street with maybe 15 single family, two story homes. The two houses on the end were just shells that has already collapsed.

“Sure have. We cleared and secured them, but someone else could have come by and fucked that up. Donnie can check a couple before we go in.”

“No need, I’ll do it myself.” She started up the steps of the first house before Negan had a chance to stop her. The front door was unlocked and Negan called out to her when she pulled it open.

“Hold the fuck up, that should a been locked!” she ignored him and moved in, knife in hand. The house had an open floor plan, the entry, living room, and kitchen were one open space and she saw 3 dead heads fumbling towards her. She quickly moved towards them, they were spaced out enough that she dropped them one after the other, without a problem. The last one was hitting the floor when Negan, Bud, and Jay ran through the door.

“Damn girl,” Jay said. “I guess you didn’t need any help.”

“Shut the fuck up!” Negan yelled. Jay and Bud both dropped their eyes to the floor. He grabbed her arm firmly, but it didn’t hurt. “What in the shit do you think ‘hold the fuck up’ means? Let me tell you, it means don’t be a dumb fuck and go charging in a house that should have been locked when it fucking isn’t!”

“Sorry, I’m not quite used to working with other people. I’ve been by myself for nearly a year, remember?”

“Don’t let that shit happen again. You two,” he pointed at Jay and Bud. “Go check the next few houses.” They both nodded and quickly made their escape from a very unhappy Negan.

“Bud told me that all of the kitchens have been emptied. I’m just going to see what I can find upstairs.”

It took 3 houses, but she was able to fill a large suitcase with clothes that fit her. She also took extra bed sheets, a comforter, a couple of books and DVDs, and an almost brand new pair of boots. Negan and the Saviors were filling the trucks up with mattresses, tables, clothes, toiletries, books, and anything else useful they found. By looks of it, it would take several more trips to get everything out of all of the houses.

She chatted with Bud for a little while, helping him carry out some of the larger items. He was pleasant to talk to, less roughneck than most of the other Saviors, and he reminded her a little of her high school history teacher whom she’d adored. She found out he’d been in construction, he did dry wall for houses and businesses. He’d lost his family to the dead, found Negan early on and helped him build up Sanctuary. He was a lieutenant because he’d been with Negan for so long, and was fiercely loyal to him.

The ride back to Sanctuary was only 30 minutes. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep until she felt Negan’s hand brushing the hair from her face.

“Good morning sunshine. Have a nice nap?” he asked.

“Yeah, sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright. Why don’t you take your shit up to your room, get settled in. Come up to my office for dinner in an hour.” She grabbed her gun and knife to hand it to him, but he stopped her with a hand on her arm. “You can keep them, if you promise to not run off in the middle of the night.”

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, at least not tonight.” She smirked at him before she grabbed her bag and climbed out of the truck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the greatest smut writer, so sorry about that, but I try. Hopefully it didn't suck too bad and you all still enjoyed the chapter. Leave comment, some kudos, and bookmark if you like the story so far!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than my last few chapters, but I felt the stopping point was a good end to a chapter and already started the next one. Thank you to everyone who left kudos, bookmarked, and/or commented!

It didn’t take Crimson long to organize her new things. She changed into one of the t-shirts she’d picked up at the market. She’d managed to stay fairly clean when she took down the dead heads, but she still had a little blood spatter on her shirt. She was usually efficient with her time so she should have had everything settled in its new place in 15 minutes, but her mind was wandering. Negan was swimming through her thoughts, no matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t leave. He was as stubborn in her mind as he was in her life. She glanced at her gun and knife sitting on the table. He was starting to trust her and in return, she was trusting him.

She put the shirt in a pile with her new clothes and bedding. Bud had told her he would send one of the laundry girls up to fetch her bedding and clothing so it could be washed before she used it. The woman was prompt, arriving only a 30 minutes after Crimson started unpacking the suitcase. She knocked quietly on the door, Crimson called for her to come in, she hadn’t locked the door.

“Hello Ma’am,” the older woman said after she closed the door behind her, an empty laundry basket in her arms. She looked like she’d been living a hard life, even before. Her skin was pale, leathery, with deep set wrinkles. Her brown hair was dry and dull, her clothes were faded and worn. “I’m here for you laundry.”

“Hi, I’m Crimson,” she smiled at her. “What’s your name?”

“Danielle.”

“It’s all piled right there, next to the bed.”

“I’ll have it back to you first thing in the morning. Negan said your stuff is a priority.”

“There’s no rush, but thank you Danielle.” Danielle gathered Crimson’s laundry into the basket and left quietly.

Crimson neatly stacked her books and DVDs on top of the counter. It reminded her that she needed to find a bookcase. She looked at the clock, she had about an hour before Negan would come get her for dinner, so she grabbed a book and curled up on one end of the couch, her legs tucked underneath her while she propped herself up against the armrest. The sun had just set and it was getting cool inside, so she pulled a blanket over her lap.

She was really enjoying the adventures of Bilbo Baggins, not even realizing how much time had passed when she heard another knock on her door, so she called out for the person to come in. She looked up to see Negan, Lucille slung across his shoulders and she gave him a smile.

“What the fuck did I tell you about keeping this damn door locked?” he asked.

“I’ll lock it before I go to sleep. Since you so kindly let me keep my .380,” she pointed to the gun on the table, easily within her reach, “I can shoot any marauders that come in to try and have their way with me.”

“I don’t give a shit. Keep this door locked, 24/7. Now come on, I’m fucking hungry, dinner’s waiting.”

She made a mental note of what page she was on and that she needed to find something to use as a book mark. She set the Hobbit down on the coffee table before she uncurled herself from the couch and folded up the blanket.

“You cold?” Negan asked.

“It’s a little chilly,” she answered. Negan dropped Lucille down to his side, threw his arm around her shoulder and pulled her into him. She could feel the warmth of his body through his leather jacket.

“I know a great way to warm you right on up,” he grinned down at her and gave her a wink. Crimson huffed and tried to push his arm off of her. “I’m just fucking with you. Well, unless you want to, then I’m not. But I think we’re friends now, right? Friends can walk around like this.” He reached down and placed her arm around his waist. “Didn’t you get yourself some warmer clothes today?”

“I did, but they’re being washed. I’m supposed to have them back in the morning.” Negan lead her out to the hall, leaned Lucille against the wall so he could locked her door with his free hand. Apparently he also had a key to her room. “Craig,” he called out to the guard down the hall as he picked the bat back up. He looked up at Negan as he was kneeling. “Tell laundry to have Crimson’s shit ready by tonight.” Craig nodded and Negan walked her into the elevator.

Dinner was waiting for them, a fire roaring in the fireplace and candles were lit on the dining table.

“Nice ambiance, but if you’re trying to romance me into your bed, it’s not going to work.” His gloved fingers were stroking the bare skin on her arm and she couldn’t suppress a shudder. “Nothing is going to work.”

“I know, I know, not as long as I’m a married man. Just relax and sit down.” He pulled her seat out for her after he set Lucille down. She realized they were developing some sort of twisted route. He took his seat across from her and pulled off their plate warmers. The smell of burritos and Mexican rice hit her nose as she picked up her fork and started in on it. Beans, cheese, lettuce, and tomato wrapped in a deliciously soft tortilla. “I want to make something perfectly clear for tomorrow. You do not leave my side. Not for one, single, god damned second. Pickups usually go smoothly, but I’m not taking any chances, especially after you ran off like some fucking warrior princess and could have got yourself killed.”

“There were only three of them, it wasn’t a big deal.”

“What would you have done if there’d been 20 of those fucks in there?”

“The same thing I did to the three. Only you might have made it in time for you and Lucille to take care of a few. I know you wouldn’t let anything happen to me.”

“Feeding my ego isn’t getting you out of trouble, good fucking try though baby doll.” His eyes narrowed and his jaw clenched. “You don’t go more than 10 feet away from me outside those walls tomorrow. Got it?” Crimson nodded.

“I heard someone talking about an outpost. Not everyone lives here?”

“We have a couple of outposts. They’re mostly for storage, keep our supplies spread out in case someone is fucking dumb enough to attack Sanctuary. Each one has a crew of my Saviors. We usually bring supplies straight to an outpost, then move it here. I don’t like too many people knowing where home base is.”

“That’s smart. Do you have any farming or livestock operations at the outposts?”

“No, I keep my soldiers there, not fucking farmer Joe.”

“Is it really smart to rely on people you subjugate for your food and supplies?”

“It is when they’re too damn scared to do anything other than follow my fucking orders. I leave a… lasting impression the first time I introduce myself.”

“I’m sure you do. I can see how much you love to put on a good show.”

“That’s fucking right. Simon runs most of the pickups, we don’t have problems. The last pick up from the Kingdom, where we’re going tomorrow, it was lighter than I like. That’s why I’m going along, make a personal appearance.”

Their conversation continued on casually through dinner. Negan wanted to know more about her, about things she enjoyed before the end of the world came around, her favorite food and drinks, even her favorite movies. They played quid pro quo, she asked the same questions of him. They had more in common than she would have ever guessed. They were both avid readers, though she didn’t share his love of a fat, juicy steak. Their plates were long empty by the time they were discussing their favorite authors and debating the meaning behind novels they’d both read. She was laughing when she finally glanced at the clock on his desk, she realized the time.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed. “It’s 1am! Where the hell did the time go?”

“Time flies in such damn fine company.”

“I need to get to sleep. We’re supposed to be heading out at 8.”

“We can always continue this in my bedroom with a couple of glasses of whiskey.”

“Nice try, but I’ll be heading back to my own bed. Thank you for dinner and the conversation, it was lovely.” She folded her napkin and placed it on the table.

“I’ll walk you back to your room.” She took his offered arm and he led her down the hall. “I hope you’re feeling at home here, Doc. Whatever you need, you let me know.”

“I think this place will be sustainable, with some adjustments,” she told him.

“What kind of adjustments? I think run a pretty tight fucking ship around here.”

“I’m still observing, so I’m not ready to make a real judgement yet.”

“You tell me when you are. That’ll be a good dinner conversation for another night.” They reached her room and she unlocked her door. She noticed a basket of clean laundry sitting in the hall, next to her door. Negan leaned his shoulder against the doorway when she stepped inside.

“Thank you,” she said. “Really, tonight almost felt like a normal night, the kind of normal we had before the dead started walking around.”

His hand brushed against her cheek when he tucked a tendril of loose hair behind her ear. He gently cupped the back of her neck, his fingertips were dancing on her skin, setting it afire.

“I’m going to kiss you goodnight now, Doc.”

“Negan, don’t,” she said, placing her hands on his chest to try and distance them. His thumb swept across her lower lip.

“I can’t stop thinking about these god damn gorgeous lips of yours. I know you’ve been thinking about me too. That kiss was un-fucking-forgettable.” Before she knew what was happening, his lips were on hers, her body pressed against his strong chest by an arm locked around her waist. It was different this time, slow and sensual, but no less powerful. She whimpered against his mouth when his tongue asked for entrance. She yielded to him, slipping her arms around his neck, pressing closer into him, desperate to feel all of him. Time ceased to exist as his tongue stroked hers, one hand held the back of her neck, thumb stroking her cheek. The other softly held her hip, each movement of his fingers sending a surge of warm wetness between her legs. Each kiss grew more urgent than the next, soon she was gasping for breath when he broke the kiss, leaning his forehead against hers. When she opened her eyes, she saw that his were closed.

“Negan,” she spoke softly.

“Yeah, baby doll?”

“Goodnight.” She placed a chaste kiss on his lips before she pulled out of his arms and shut the door. A minute later, she heard his boots echoing down the hall. After she heard the stairwell door shut, she opened her door and dragged in her laundry then locked her door.

Was this how ‘the other woman’ felt? When she wanted a married man? Crimson couldn’t ignore the fact that he shared his bed with other women. That those women felt his lips on theirs, and on other places Crimson had been dreaming they would go. But she also couldn’t ignore how much she was enjoying his company, how he could make her smile and laugh, and how a single touch set her body ablaze.

What the hell was she doing?

She woke to a pounding on her door, someone was yelling her name. She quickly snatched her gun from under her pillow and jumped to her feet. There was nothing that could wake her up faster than the sounds of chaos.

“Who is it?” She called out, standing next to the door in a pair of yoga pants and a loose t-shirt.

“It’s Bud, we got a situation and need you down in the clinic, quick!”

She unlocked the door and found a very disheveled Bud, covered in blood spatter, smelling like dead, rotting flesh. He firmly grasped her arm and led her straight to the elevator. She was glad she slept in a pair of socks that night, she hadn’t thought to grab her shoes.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, but we got another man, he got bit on the ankle. We already took his foot off, above the bite, but we can’t get the bleeding to stop.” They were at the clinic in no time. Saviors were all over her clinic, she had to shoulder her way in. There was a man she didn’t recognize on the exam table. She jumped up on a chair so she could shout above the noise of the crowd.

“I need everyone except Nancy, Simon, and Bud out of here, now! You’re welcome to wait in the hall, but if you want this man to live, get the hell out, right now so I can get to work!” It didn’t take long for them to shuffle out, and she could hear murmurs of conversation behind the closed door. She quickly assessed the man on the table. Someone had used a belt for a tourniquet at the top of his thigh and covered the wound with a rag. He was pale and weak from blood loss, moaning in pain, but he was still slightly conscious. His remaining leg was pale and cool to the touch, so she undid the belt before the lack of circulation caused him to lose the rest of it. She didn’t dare touch the blood soaked rag covering the stump at the end of his lower left leg until she was ready. “Bud and Simon, wash your hands and get a pair of gloves. Nancy, I need clean water for washing him, alcohol, gauze, clamps, forceps, scalpel, iodine and water in a wash bottle, and dissolvable and regular sutures. I also need you to pull up a proper dose of bupivacaine, I know I saw it in the cabinet the other day. There’s a book on medication and dosages on the counter if you aren’t sure.”

Crimson slipped on a lap coat and a face mask, washed her hand right after Bud and Simon, then pulled on a pair of gloves. She looked up when the door opened and Negan stepped in. He closed the door and leaned against the wall with Lucille, out of the way. Nancy parked a small rolling cart next to Crimson, complete with two filled wash bottle, clamps, forceps, scalpel, alcohol, gauze, sutures, and a full syringe. Crimson double checked the bottle on the cart to make sure it was bupivacaine.

“Thank you. Simon, I’ll need you to hold his shoulders and Bud, you get his leg. I can’t have him moving. This is going to numb him but it takes up to 10 minutes to kick in and we can’t wait 10 minutes to start.”

“I got his leg,” Negan said as he approached.

“No, your hands aren’t clean, but you can hold his arms down. Nancy, be ready to hand me that wash bottle and the forceps.” When everyone was ready a moment later, she wiped around outside of the leg near the wound with alcohol soaked gauze then injected the anesthetic in to 6 different locations.

“Am I gonna die?!” the man asked in a panic.

“I won’t let you die. But I need you to hold very still. This is going to hurt.” Then she pulled the bloodied rag from the leg and washed away as much blood as she could with the bottle until she could see the area most of the blood was coming from. The moment the forceps dug into his flesh, the man was thrashing and screaming, but the three men were able to keep his leg from moving much. It took a minute, but she was able to find the artery and clamp it with the forceps. She used the scalpel the cut away damaged tissue and form enough of the skin flap to fold it over. The man had quieted, he had passed out, but was still breathing. She washed the entire wound with the iodine, rinsed it with clean water, and stitched him up, dissolvable sutures for the artery and regular for the exterior leg.

She dropped her bloodied tools back into the cart and tossed her gloves on top. The clock on the wall read 3:17am. The adrenaline that was pumping through her during the surgery was wearing off, so she leaned against the counter top.

“Great job everyone, thank you.”

“Nice work, Doc,” Simon said. His face said he was sincere, almost respectful, very different than the usual distrust he gave her.

“Thank you. You all can go, get some sleep, I’ll stay here with him. What’s his name?” Crimson asked.

“Jerry,” Negan answered. “Nancy will stay with him. You need to get back to bed. You look like shit.”

She didn’t even have to energy to rip him a new one for his rudeness. She just nodded, told Nancy to give Jerry his first dose of injectable penicillin and monitor him for any negative reaction to either medication, and followed Negan out into the hall. Several men were still waiting.

“Jerry is going to be fine gentleman. He’s resting now. You all get some sleep and you can see him tomorrow.”

There were several murmurs of “Thanks” and “Thanks, Doc” as the men dispersed. She followed Negan down the maze of hallways towards the elevator.

“You weren’t lying,” Negan said.

“About?” she asked him to explain.

“Being damn good at your job.”

She propped herself against the corner of the elevator when they entered. She closed her eyes, they were so heavy she could barely keep them open. She hadn’t even realized she’d fallen asleep until she woke up. The only problem was, she wasn’t in her room, and there was an arm around her waist attached to the warm chest pressed against her back.

 


	10. Chapter 10

 

The haze of sleep was still washing over her as Crimson woke from a deep slumber. Her eyes were still closed, heavy from sleep, and she was warm and comfortable from the blanket and the warm body surrounding her. No matter how they fell asleep, Daryl always managed to wrap himself around her, like he was afraid she’d sneak off in the middle of the night and never return. She smiled to herself and stretched when she felt his manhood pressing against the back of her thigh through his jeans. She thought it was strange that they were both clothed since they always slept naked until she finally opened her eyes and saw a room she didn’t recognize. It was large with a window, dark mahogany entertainment stand with a large TV, fireplace underneath it, and the same high ceiling that Negan’s floor had.

Negan… she remembered getting into the elevator with him and nothing after that. She slowly turned her head and confirmed that it was Negan wrapped around her and her chest tightened. It took everything she had to not burst into tears right there. How on earth had she thought he was Daryl? It had been nearly 2 years since the last time she woke up and expected to find him next to her. Suddenly the idea of another man’s hands on her made her sick. What was she doing with a man who was the absolute opposite of everything she loved about Daryl? Daryl may have been a rough redneck with an explosive temper to those who didn’t know him, but underneath it he was loyal and kind and beautiful and loved her so deeply that sometimes she’d forget to breathe when she looked into his eyes.

In that moment she wanted nothing more than to see him again. She knew he was dead. And not the kind of dead that got back up. No, he would have never allowed himself to turn into one of those disgusting things. He was the right kind of dead, probably got himself killed trying to save Merle. The whole world might have gone insane, but Daryl Dixon would have found her if he were still alive. Accepting his death didn’t make her feel any less guilty about waking up in another man’s bed, especially a man who couldn’t even respect her enough to leave her alone when she asked, a man who asked her to join his god damn harem of women like she was some kind of whore.

She had no clue how she’d ended up in Negan’s bed. He had obviously taken her to his bedroom when she passed out in the elevator. She was slowly sliding away from him, trying to move him as little as possible when his arm tightened around her.

“It’s only 7,” he grumbled, his voice low and deep in his tired state. “Go back to sleep.” Crimson sat up, his arm fell around her hips and into her lap.

“Where are we?”

“My bedroom. Now go back to fucking sleep.” He cracked his eyes open just in time to see her wiping at the tears that never quite fell. “What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing, I’m fine, other than waking up in a strange bed with you. And why am I in your bedroom, in your bed, with you?” Negan grumbled something about ‘stupid fucking questions’ under his breath as he came to terms with the fact that she would not be going back to sleep.

“Relax, you were so god damn exhausted that you passed out in the elevator. I didn’t have my keys on me to take you to your room and lock your door so I just brought you here. Nothing happened. I could have put you on the couch and let you wake up with the biggest fucking kink in your neck but I’m a gentleman.”

Crimson noticed she was fully clothed, she even still had her now very dirty socks still on. She wasn’t sure why his bedroom was empty when he left it last night to come down to the clinic. She’d assumed a man with three wives never slept alone.

“A gentleman would have taken the couch! What the hell is wrong with you? You don’t just carry an unconscious woman to your bed and climb in with her! Why aren’t any of your wives here?” she asked.

“Will you stop fucking yelling? It’s too damn early for that shit woman. And trust me doll, it takes a gentleman to put you in bed and not rip those clothes off and fuck you into oblivion. My wives don’t sleep in my bedroom. Don’t even let them in here.”

“You call me ‘woman’ again and I’ll turn your ass into one. Why don’t your wives sleep here?”

“This is my space, where I don’t have to listen to them whine and groan and bitch about stupid god damn shit I don’t give a flying fuck about.”

“I’m going back to my room to change and go get breakfast. I need coffee or I’m never going to get through the day.”

“I know a great way to wake up. It’ll put me in a real fucking good mood.” He pulled her back down to the bed, slipping his hands under her shirt to massage her sides while he kissed the back of her neck. She was trembling against him and she wasn’t sure if it was shame, desire, or both.

“Stop,” she grabbed his hands and he let her remove them from under her shirt. “The only reason I’m in your bed was because I wasn’t conscious when you brought me here.”

“Fine,” he turned her face towards his own and kissed her quickly. “Go get your damn coffee. I’ll see you at the main doors at 8.”

“Stop kissing me,” she told him as she climbed out of his very comfortable California king sized bed and padded over to the bedroom door.

“Why? You weren’t complaining last night. In fact, I remember you taking some damn initiative and kissing me.”

“That was a mistake, I was tired and I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again. I’ll see you downstairs.” She closed his bedroom door with a little more forced than she meant to. Oh well, maybe a slammed door would sink the message in a little further. She heard him chuckle to himself behind the door, like he wasn’t taking her seriously. “And keep your damn hands off of me you chauvinistic asshole!” she yelled through the door.

She was almost to the hallway when she heard his bedroom door slam open and Negan’s booming voice stopped her in her tracks. He was standing in the door way in an untucked white t-shirt and jeans.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” he was livid.

“I can’t dumb it down for you anymore,” she snapped. “Keep your filthy hands off. Of. Me.”

“Don’t you fucking speak to me like that. Maybe I’ve been too lenient with you. Spare the rod, spoil the child and all that shit. I’m getting real fucking sick of this hot and cold bull shit you seem to find so amusing.”

“Stop coming on to me like I’m a bitch in heat and there won’t be any bull shit to deal with. What are you going to do? Hit me with your bat? Smash my head in until there’s nothing left? Go right ahead big man, kill your only doctor, obviously your ego is larger than your brain.” He grabbed her arm with bruising force but she didn’t back down. She struggled under his grasp, trying to pull her arm free. “I said keep your hands off of me!”

“You’ll shut that pretty little smart mouth of yours if you know what’s fucking good for you.”

“Fuck you, Negan!”

“God, I get so fucking hard when you scream at me like that.”

He pulled her against his chest and Crimson saw his mouth descending on hers. Before their lips met, the resounding echo of her palm across his cheek filled the room. Her eyes grew wide as she realized what she’d done. His grip on her weakened with his own shock, enough for her to wrench her arm from his hold and flee his office. She pulled the door shut behind her as she ran out, like it might stop him from coming after her. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could barely breathe, the sound of blood rushing in her ears was all she could hear, and the tears starting to well in her eyes blurred her vision. She didn’t even see Sherry until she ran straight into her.

“Oh, sorry!” Crimson exclaimed.

“What’s going on, I heard yelling?” Sherry asked, taking in Crimson’s wrinkled clothes, messy hair, and puffy, tear filled eyes. “What were you doing in Negan’s office so early?”

“We were, um, just having a slight disagreement. There was an emergency in the clinic last night, I fell asleep before I got back to my room so Negan took me to his.”

“You slept in his bed?” Sherry looked dumbfounded.

“Yes, but it wasn’t like that, nothing happened. I have no interest in becoming a wife, no offense.”

“No one goes into his bedroom, like, no one. Not wives, not lieutenants.”

“He said something about that. Look, it was a one time thing. He was just doing a nice thing after I patched up one of his Saviors who’d been bitten.”

“You should be careful. Negan’s not a guy you want to mess around with.” Sherry looked concerned. “You don’t play games with him, he plays them with you.”

“I don’t want to play anything with anyone. I just want to do my job and mind my own business.”

“If he’s bringing you into his bedroom, it don’t matter if anything happened or not, because it’s gonna. He’s not gonna let you walk away from him.”

“Well, I just did. It was nice to see you again, but I need to get down to breakfast before heading out.”

“Be careful,” Sherry warned.

“I always am when I’m outside.”

“I meant in here. Walkers aren’t the most dangerous thing anymore. If you’re smart, you’ll just do what he says. People who don’t, they end up on that fence.”

“Oh, well, thanks,” Crimson answered awkwardly as Sherry disappeared behind her bedroom door.

Crimson needed a shower, but she didn’t want to walk downstairs to her room just to grab clean clothes and then come back up, so she headed straight for the wives bathroom at the end of the hall. She showered quickly so she could get down to breakfast with enough time to actually eat after she went back to her room to change into clean clothes and grab her gun and knife.

The walk to the cafeteria was a little different this morning. Usually she just minded her own business, occasionally smiling at someone if they looked at her. Today, almost everyone that she passed greeted her. There was an overwhelming chorus of “hi,” “hello,” “good morning,” and “mornin’, Doc” when she stepped out of the elevator. It was making her uneasy, she was never very good in social situations with people she didn’t know. She went to stand in the back of the line to get her oatmeal when two different people told her she shouldn’t be in line and pointed her straight to the front.

“Mornin’, Doc!” the cook greeted. “How ‘bout some eggs an’ toast? Bread jus’ came outta the oven.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to go to any trouble for me,” Crimson said. “Oatmeal is just fine.”

“Ain’t no trouble at all! Take a seat, I’ll bring it straight out to ya with a hot cup of coffee. Cream and sugar?”

“Yes, thank you.” Crimson was puzzled, but she looked around to find an open seat. All of the tables had at least one person, and she wasn’t a fan of sitting with strangers, though several people were waving her over to different tables. It was like she was the new kid at school, except she was already popular. She spotted Bud at a corner table, flipping through an old, worn magazine while he was slowly eating his breakfast. He looked up as she sat down.

“Good morning, Bud,” she said.

“Hey, Doc,” and answered after he swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal.

“Ok, I need you to tell me what is going on? Everyone is being extremely friendly this morning, and most of these people I’ve never even seen before.”

“Well, they all saw you at the meeting so they know you. There were some rumors going around about your kamikaze stunt, running into that house by yourself and taking down all 3 walkers before anyone else got inside. Then last night, you saved Jerry’s life. We’ve had to cut off legs when people got bit before, and they didn’t all make it. Jerry has a wife and a kid he takes care of, so a lot of people are grateful to you.”

“I was only doing my job.”

“Well, when that job is saving people’s lives, you should get used to the attention.”

“Here ya are!” the cook interrupted, setting a plate full of eggs with 2 large slices of butter-covered toast.

“Thank you, but you really didn’t have to… sorry, I don’t think I’ve caught your name yet.”

“Greg, and it’s no problem ma’am! Just’a thanks for saving Jerry. His wife an’ mine are real good friends.” He ran back to the line before she could say anything else.

“This is just weird. I mean, things are usually a bit strange around here, but this is out of the ordinary.”

“Get used to it, Doc,” Bud said. “People like you now. You’re a nice girl and you saved someone a lot of people like. I already liked you myself.”

“Thanks. Hey, would you mind if I ride with you today?”

“Sure. You aren’t riding with the boss?”

“We had a… slight disagreement and I’d just rather not today. I need to check on Jerry before we head out, I’ll see you at the gate.” She downed the last bit of her coffee, pushed her empty plate away from the edge of the table and made her way over to the clinic. She was moving a bit slower, trying to really get her bearings since this was her first trip to the clinic by herself.

Nancy was napping on a rolling chair, her head resting on her arms on the counter when she walked in. Another woman Crimson didn’t know was sitting next to the still sleeping Jerry, holding his hand. The woman looked up when she walked in and beamed at her.

“Good morning, Doc!” she said quietly. Crimson smiled and gave her a nod. “I just wanna say thank you for what you did for my husband. I know it’s not enough, but it’s a start. I’m Claire, and if there’s anything at all that I can ever do for you, it would be my honor.” Crimson had already grabbed the stethoscope that was hanging on the wall and was checking his vitals.

“You really don’t need to do that. It’s my job, and what any decent human being who was capable would have done.”

“There ain’t a lot of decent human beings left in this world, so thank you. How’s he doing?”

“His heart and lungs sound good. We’ll change the bandage tomorrow, I don’t want to risk reopening anything by changing it today. We’ll have a better idea of how it’s healing then. I’ll check back in later today when I get back.”

She left a short note for Nancy instructing her to continue giving penicillin every 6 hours and to have her radioed if anything happened that she couldn’t handle. Crimson had barely shut the door to the clinic when someone grabbed her left arm and dragged her into the room across the hall. She had her knife in her free hand and pressed against the person’s abdomen before the door slammed shut and she realized it was Negan who had her pinned against the wall by her arm. The heated look on his face, along with the small welt on his left cheek and Lucille in his other hand, didn’t give her the urge to put her knife down.

“What part of ‘keep your hands off of me’ did you not understand?”

“I’ll put my fucking hands wherever the fuck I god damn well please.”

“And I’ll spill your guts all over this nice, clean floor if you don’t release me.”

“I wasn’t planning on hurting you, I don’t enjoy hurting women like some sick fucks, but if you keep threatening me then I’ll do whatever I need to, to put you in your place.”

“Put down that bat and I’ll put my knife away,” she said. Negan cocked his head, but leaned Lucille against the wall.

“You keep calling her ‘that bat’ and you’re going to hurt Lucille’s feelings. She’s already a little thirsty after that little very ina-fucking-ppropriate display of yours this morning.”

Crimson tucked her knife back into its hip holster.

“Your strange split-personality projected onto a barbed-wire covered bat is as creepy as your god complex.”

“And you’re cheeky ass attitude and lack of appreciation for all I’ve done for you is wearing my god damn patience thin. The only reason you’re even standing right now is because you haven’t been stupid enough to pull one of your PMSing bitch stunts when anyone else was around. So I’m shutting this shit down, now. You do what I say, when I fucking say it. No arguing, no throwing shit, no threatening me, and if you ever slap me again that’ll be that last fucking thing you ever do.”

“And you wonder why I told you to keep your hands off of me?”

“Shut your fucking mouth and get to the gates. We’re leaving.” He practically dragged her down the halls and through the main doors, she struggled to keep up with his long, hurried strides. He finally released her arm when they reached the trucks. Negan climbed into a cargo van, the passenger seat empty, and popped his head out to ask her what the fuck she was doing when she walked over to Bud’s truck.

“I’m riding with Bud.” Jason was sitting in the passenger seat. “Would you move to the back, please?” she asked him.

“Yes ma’am,” he gave her a smile and moved to the back, kicking someone else out of the truck. The poor guy looked a little panicked when he realize the only open space was in Negan’s van. Negan tossed the keys at him and she heard him say,

“You fucking drive, I’m not your damn chauffer.”

“You sure you shouldn’t be riding with the boss?” Bud asked her as the trucks started rolling down the road.

“And miss out on your company? Not a chance,” she replied with a smile and a wink. Bud chuckled. “Now please tell me that someone here has an iPod to plug in so we don’t all have to sit here in awkward silence since the new doctor chick decided to ride with you fine gentleman.” They all laughed, and Jason reached forward to hand her his iPod from the back.

“It’s got some good stuff on it. Just don’t break it, it’s so hard to find an iPod that works and actually has good music on it.”

“I promise I will be extra careful with it. Now, how about something fun?”

She plugged it into the stereo and decided to look through the newest songs first. Well, they weren’t so new now, but the newest music available at the end of the world. One song finally caught her eye. Bad Girlfriend by Theory of the Deadman. She used to loved to dance to it at the bar. Daryl said the song was written for her, minus the leaving alone, being stoned, and gold digger parts. After a couple drinks and a few shots, she could get a little wild. Sometimes she’d wind up on the bar dancing with a couple of other girls, other times some random guy who didn’t know her and didn’t know Daryl would get handsy and she’d knock his ass to the ground if Daryl didn’t get to him first. And she always went home with him. She was going to play the song, and then get him out of her head. She couldn’t afford to be so weak anymore.

The music started and a couple of guys in the back started rocking their heads to the beat. Crimson smiled and sang along.

My girlfriend's a dick magnet  
My girlfriend's gotta have it  
She's hot, can't stop, up on stage doing shots  
Tip the man he'll ring the bell, get her drunk, she'll scream like hell  
Dirty girl, gettin' down, dance with guys from outta town  
Grab her ass, actin' tough,  
Mess with her, she'll fuck you up  
No one really knows if she's drunk or if she's stoned,  
But she's comin' back to my place tonight!

She likes to shake her ass  
She grinds it to the beat  
She likes to pull my hair, when I make her grind her teeth  
I like to strip her down  
She's naughty 'til the end  
You know what she is, no doubt about it  
She's a bad bad girlfriend!

Red thong, party's on, love this song, sing along  
Come together, leave alone, see you later back at home  
No one really knows if shes drunk or is she's stoned  
But she's coming back to my place tonight  
I say  
No one really knows just how far she's going to go  
But I'm gonna find out later tonight

She likes to shake her ass  
She grinds it to the beat  
She likes to pull my hair, when I make her grind her teeth  
I like to strip her down  
She's naughty 'til the end  
You know what she is, no doubt about it  
She's a bad bad girlfriend!

Doesn't take her long to make things right  
But does it make her wrong to have the time of her life  
The time of her life  
(My girlfriend's a dick magnet)  
(My girlfriend's gotta have it)

She's a gold digger  
Now you figure out it's over, pull the trigger  
Future's finished, there it went, savings gone,  
The money spent

I look around and all I see is no good, bad and ugly,  
Man she's hot, fixed to be the future ex-Miss Connolly!

She likes to shake her ass  
She grinds it to the beat  
She likes to pull my hair, when I make her grind her teeth  
I like to strip her down  
She's naughty 'til the end  
You know what she is, no doubt about it  
She's a bad bad girlfriend, she's a bad bad girlfriend, she's a bad bad girlfriend

“Well Doc, you got yourself a pretty voice to match that pretty smile,” Bud said.

“Hell yeah she does,” Jason added.

“Thank you gentleman. What would you all like to hear next?”

The rest of the 40 minute ride was spent with the playlist set to random, and conversation between Crimson, Bud, and Jason. The other 2 men in the back were mostly silent, she didn’t even know their names. She found out that they weren’t actually going to the Kingdom. The leader there, King Ezekiel, kept his bargain with the Saviors as a secret from most of his people. They met in an empty parking lot for exchanges. Apparently Ezekiel was quite eccentric. He tried to speak in old English, called his men knights and they dressed up in makeshift armor and rode horses, and he kept a pet tiger. She was disappointed to find out he didn’t bring said tiger to the exchanges.

“Alright, Doc,” Bud said. “We’re here.” The Saviors caravan parked and Crimson hopped out of the truck with the other men. There were several men, dressed as Bud and Jason had described, and one man with a thick beard and heavy dreadlocks she guessed to be the self-proclaimed king.

“Who is this most fair maiden?” Ezekiel approached her with a cool confidence. “How have I not been graced with your presence before?” He held his hand out to her. She took his to shake it, but he bowed to her and kissed the back of her hand instead.

“I’m Crimson. I’m new around here, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Ezekiel released her hand and stood back up when Negan came storming up.

“We aren’t here for you to woo my fucking women. Only three pigs and a bushel of apples two weeks ago left my Lucille here a little hungry.” Negan swung the bat around in his hand to emphasize his point. “I’ve been doing you a damn great service keeping the dead pricks down to a minimum in your area. I really expect you to be more thankful than three skinny pigs and some fucking apples. Now I’ve had to come all the way down here to see what the fuck is going on.”

“You have my most sincere apology,” Ezekiel spoke. “We had to wait for several sows to finish weaning their piglets before we could slaughter more. As you can see, we have six of our finest for you today, as well as potatoes, carrots, and peaches to make up for our poor delivery last time.”

“Those had better be some damned good peaches or…” the sound of a high powered rifle round firing cut him off. Crimson automatically hit the ground belly down, hands covering her head. From the corner of her eye, she saw the other men, both Saviors and Knights, slam themselves to the ground or behind a truck for cover.

“Doc!” Bud called out to her.

“Crimson!” Negan yelled, falling to his knees beside her. Several men surrounded him, shielding both of them with their own bodies. She didn’t understand what Negan was doing until she saw the blood pooling around her. She looked down to find it was coming from the brand new bullet hole in her right shoulder.

 


End file.
